


A Soft Heart in a Cruel World

by IWillBeYourPet



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Anal Sex, Blackgate Penitentiary (DCU), Blow Jobs, Bottom Oswald Cobblepot, Broken Oswald, Bullying, Canon divergence - Oswald doesn't find his father, Dom/sub, First Time, Fuck or Die threats, Humiliation, Jim is probably going to save him, M/M, Manipulation, Oswald Goes to Blackgate, Please do not copy or translate, Prison, Prison Bitch type stuff, Prison Sex, Season 2 after Oswald gets out of Arkham, Submissive Oswald, Top Jim Gordon, Violence, hinted at past non con, nicewald, threats of non con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24590137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeYourPet/pseuds/IWillBeYourPet
Summary: **All WIPs on temp hiatus**Set in season 2 after Oswald is released from Arkham.  In all his sweet, helpless niceness.After being turned away by Butch and Ed Oswald doesn't find his father, instead he stays in Gotham on the streets until Butch takes pity on him.  Unfortunately he accidentally takes the fall for a murder and is sent to Blackgate. Hugo Strange is curious how this new docile Oswald will make it through a prison with a different type of bad guy than Arkham, so he may have had a hand in getting the man sentenced rather quickly.Oswald is not prepared for a place like Blackgate, not the way that he is now.  Luckily for him, Jim Gordon also happens to be there, and the man is sure to protect him.  At least he hopes so.Jim is just trying to keep himself alive and get out of prison as fast as he can.  To clear his name.  Oswald Cobblepot is a complication that he doesn't need, but the man is so helpless he can't bring himself to leave him to... whatever might happen to him.Also, he may have a soft spot for him.I don't know what I'm doing folks.  Gotham has taken over my life :D I just so badly wanted Nice Oswald to interact with Jim.Please do not copy or translate.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Comments: 88
Kudos: 209





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We will get to blackgate/Jim in chapter 2 :)

Tabby’s grin stretched across her entire face as she waited for them to bring the feathers, standing almost close enough to touch Oswald. He was looking up at her, still smiling though it was strained, his eyes darting around, clearly fearful.

Butch shook his head as he watched, it just didn’t settle right with him. He was avoiding meeting Oswald’s eyes because it was just uncomfortable. 

“Got the feathers!”

Tabby gave Oswald a shove back as she turned to see what they had brought and Butch pushed off the counter to move closer. Oswald’s eyes found his and the man tugged at his coat as his eyes darted to Tabby and back. He expected the man to beg him to stop this, to try to change Tabby’s mind but that wasn’t what came out of his mouth. “Can I stay?”

“What?”

His face was so lost, so hopeful, “After I’m punished, do I get to stay?”

He didn’t know how to answer that but before he could come up with something Tabby stepped in between them, her face a sneer, “Yea, I don’t think so little birdie.” She lifted up the bucket in her hand and Oswald’s eyes locked on it. Butch turned and headed out of the room before she started, he didn’t need to see it. 

  
  


“What did I fucking say?”

Butch caught the words from the alley, followed by the grunt of someone getting hit, but that was more than usual for Gotham. He kept walking, not interested, but the response reached his ears. 

“I am so so sorry. Please. I don't have any money, you can, you can have my hat.”

Butch stumbled to a stop, closing his eyes for a moment, and against his better judgement he backtracked until he could look down the alley. He knew that voice. 

Oswald was on the ground in front of two men, Gary and Jerry fucking Wendell. He was holding up his hands placatingly, that awkward smile on his face. Butch shook his head and sighed. This wasn’t his problem.

One of them grabbed him and dragged Oswald to his feet, shaking him hard. “Didn’t we go over this yesterday Ozzie?”

Oswald had reached up to grab the man’s arm, feet kicking as he whimpered out, “I know, but a day isn’t a lot to find a job to get any money, and-”

“So mug someone!” There was a backhand that nearly knocked him off his feet and his nose was bleeding, his lip split. 

“I’m good now, I can’t steal-”

A nasty smile curled on the other man’s face as he tilted his head at his brother, “We can always find other value from him, ya know what I mean?”

Shit. He was heading down the alley before he really decided to. They noticed him as he got close, letting go of Oswald and the man tumbled back to the ground. His eyes landed on Butch though and his voice was a happy squeal. “Butch!”

Gary kicked him hard in the side, making him curl up in a ball. Jerry glanced down at him, “What are you so excited about? You know he fucking hates you, right Penguin?”

Oswald curled in smaller, his face open and hurt at the words, and it wasn’t right for the man to be so fucking vulnerable. He tried to smile, but it wobbled, “Butch is my friend.”

Butch huffed out a breath of air but motioned at him, “Yea, I’m his friend. So fuck off boys.” 

“Finders keepers.” Gary reached for him but Oswald scrambled on his hands and knees to get behind Butch, and at least he still had some self preservation.

Without looking he grabbed Oswald’s arm and helped him back to his feet, pushing him behind him. They dropped their hands to their guns and Butch put his hands out, “You’re going to fight me, fight _me_ , over this loser? Seriously?”  
The hands eased away from guns and there was grumbling as they headed back into the building. Butch watched them long enough to make sure that they were really leaving before he turned to look at Oswald.

“Thank you, Butch.” Oswald was suddenly hugging him, pressing his face against his chest and when he pulled back there were a few tears on his face. “Thank you.”

Butch awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, “Sure thing. Good luck.”

He stepped around him and made it a few steps before he realized Oswald was following him. “What are you doing Penguin?”

“It's Oswald, please.” When Butch just looked at him his eyes darted away, nervously, but looked back up, “Can I come back with you?”

“No.”

“Please.” He moved closer to Butch, “I don’t have anywhere else to go. And Ed said I made him uncomfortable. And… and it’s cold out.”

Butch felt a headache coming on and rubbed a hand over his face, “You have money, why aren’t you at your place?”

“Ah. When I was arrested all my assets were frozen and that hasn’t been fixed.” Again there was that wobbly smile, “It's been uh, difficult to find help. And food.”

Butch eyed him top to bottom, the man’s coat was gone, a few feathers still stuck to his hat, a fading black eye under the new bruises forming and he looked so … vulnerable. Helpless. It just wasn’t right seeing Oswald Cobblepot like this. Tabby was going to kill him. 

“Yea, come on. We can at least get a meal in ya.”

He wasn’t expecting to see so much relief on the man’s face, or for Oswald to tear up again, swiping at his face with a dirty sleeve. The man was a wreck. It had to have been at least a few weeks since he’d last seen him, “Have you been on the streets this whole time?”

Oswald tugged on his sleeves until they were past his hands, curling them around his fists probably in an attempt to keep warm as much as out of nerves and the newly ever present smile slid off his face. “I’m trying to find a job. I just keep…” His voice dropped lower, eyes averted, “Not many people like me.”

“I can’t believe you aren’t dead.” He found himself grabbing Oswald by the arm, grip too tight but Oswald didn’t complain, and pulled him along. He had said they were even, that they were okay between the two of them, and it was clear Arkham had fucked him up. A friend would help. “Tabitha isn’t going to be happy at all. Try not to piss her off, okay?”

“Of course not. I’m so sorry, thank you so much Butch. Thank you, I promise-”

“Okay, I get it, shut it.” Oswald’s mouth snapped shut obediently and he would have thought having an Oswald that was so submissive, so compliant would be a novelty but it just kind of freaked him out. 

Back to his place he waved down the guards when they went on to alert, and he just caught out of the corner of his eye as Oswald tried to smile at them, and he shook his head. He was going to bring him to get food, but a whiff of him and he really should get him cleaned up first. 

“You want a shower? You reek.”

Oswald’s face flushed as he self consciously tugged at his clothing. It was another thing that got to him, Oswald was always so nitpicky, always so particular. “I’m sorry, I would be so grateful, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Butch reached the bathroom and gave him a push, “You know where the towels are.” He caught his arm before he could go in, “I don’t want to hear another I’m sorry from you, got it?” He used his threatening voice but it didn’t make the smile on Oswald’s face waver.

“Sure Butch, anything you want. Did you like the cupcakes?”

“Yes.” Oswald was practically beaming and he gave him a harder shove into the bathroom, pulling it closed before he could say anything. The shower started fairly quickly and the man was probably dying to get clean. Through the door he called out, “I’m goign to get you some clean clothes.”

Until he was getting them he realized he’d only have his clothes on hand and those wouldn’t work. Tabby’s would probably fit him better. He chuckled at that, not sure which of the two of them would be more horrified by that. He glanced at a few of the guards and gave them a smile, “So, does anyone keep a spare set of clothes around?”

Butch knocked on the bathroom door before reaching to open it, and the fact that it wasn’t locked was insane. He had known Oswald for years and the man was meticulous about no one seeing him without his layers of protective clothing. He pushed it open, “Hey, I got some clothes for ya, they are probably too big but it’s all I could find right now.”

He set them on the counter and glanced at the shower, honestly out of curiosity, and caught a glimpse of naked skin. Bruised naked skin. He didn’t dwell, leaving the clothes and shutting the door but it was obvious the black eye wasn’t the only injury he’d received.

He waited until the shower turned off to add, “I’ll be in the kitchen when you get out, okay?”

“Yes, Butch.”

There were more words, and he would bet anything they were some kind of thank you but he didn’t stay to listen to them. Instead he headed towards the kitchen, glancing around for Tabitha. She was out running some errands and he wasn’t entirely sure when she was going to be back, and he didn’t want to get caught off guard when she showed up.

In the kitchen he pulled a few things out of the fridge and dropped them on the counter so the man could make himself a sandwich, he’d be damned if he was going to wait on him. It was only a few minutes until there were soft steps approaching, that distinct limping gait that could only be Oswald. 

The man hesitated in the doorway, tugging up the pants he was wearing. The clothes were too big but it wasn’t like he had any guards that small. He was smiling though, even as his eyes darted to the food. The smile faltered and his eyes were wide, but he brought them back to Butch. “Thank you for the clean clothes.”

“Thank Stu, he’s the smallest guy I have here and he had some extra clothes.”

Oswald looked down at himself and tugged at the clothes, his eyes darting to the food again. “I will thank him.”

“You can eat.” He really wasn’t trying to make him beg, or tease him and Oswald moved forward so fast he stumbled. 

“Thank you.” Oswald carefully made a sandwich, eyes darting to Butch a few times like he wasn’t sure what he was doing okay. He moved to sit at the table and Butch filled a glass with water before he sat down across from him, setting it down and sliding it towards him. 

He was so clearly hungry and when he finished the sandwich Butch made a motion at the food, letting him know that he could have more. 

Oswald was just sitting down with a second sandwich when Tabby’s voice startled both of them. “What the fuck Butch.”

He pushed to his feet, intentionally standing in between them. “Hold on Tabby.”

“I’m gonna tar and feather you again you little twerp!” Butch put his hands up, trying to calm her and she snarled at him, “I can’t believe you brought him here.”

“Tabitha, hear me out.” He looked back at Oswald, the man had curled in on himself, hands in his lap, already teary. “Oswald-”

At the tone he pushed to his feet, twisting his hands in the sweatshirt he was wearing and he sounded so forlorn. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave. Thank you for the cl-clothes and the food.”

“Sit down Oswald.”

He had a front row view of Tabitha’s eyes going wide but behind him there was the shuffling that indicated Oswald sat down.

Tabitha poked him in the chest, “I get that he’s as helpless and pathetic as a newborn kitten but that isn’t our problem.”

“A newborn kitten that everyone wants to kill.” She still didn’t look convinced and he met her eyes as he lowered his voice, “When I found him the Wendell brothers had him. He wasn’t going to fight back no matter what they did. And you know what they do, Tabby.”

Tabitha tried not to show it but he saw the doubt on her face, she knew what would happen to him. Behind him Oswald spoke up, “They wanted money, but I didn’t have any. I wasn’t trying to fight.”

Butch snorted at that, “Believe me Oswald, you weren’t fighting.”

Tabby had recovered from her shock, “I don’t care who had him.”

He playfully narrowed his eyes at her, “Liar.”

She didn’t like that and moved around him to look directly at Oswald, “Get out.”

He started to push to his feet but Butch moved to him and grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back down. “Stay.” He gave Tabby a look, “I let you keep your pet here even though she was annoying as fuck.”

Tabby made an angry sound that had Oswald flinching, and she centered back on him. “You know what the Wendells do, don’t you? What could have happened to you?”

“Yes.” Oswald’s face was red again and his eyes skittered away and Butch could see what he was going to say before he even answered. “It wasn’t the first time I couldn’t pay them.”

“You’re staying here, as long as you need to. Okay?” His voice shook and he looked at Tabby and could see it on her face too. There were lines. “Right Tabby?”

“For now.” She tilted her head towards the other room, “Can we talk?”

“Yea.” His hand was still on Oswald’s shoulder and he patted it, “Stay here and eat, okay?”

He seemed reassured by the words and his smile was smaller, but more genuine. “Okay, Butch.” He looked like he was going to thank Tabitha as well but a glare from her just had him look down at the table instead. 

They were barely in the next room when she pointed, “Well, Butch.”

“You heard what he said Tabby.”

“Maybe he’s playing you, have you thought about that?”

Butch glanced at the kitchen, because he kind of had. “You saw when he was here a few weeks ago, Arkham scrambled his brain.” He hesitated, “I saw bruises on him Tabby, I believe him.”

“What kind of bruises?”

He rolled his shoulders, uncomfortable. “The kind that makes me believe that the Wendell brothers had him before.”

She opened her mouth but then her eyes narrowed. “How did you see those kinds of bruises?”

“When he was getting cleaned up, give me a break Tabby.”

They stared at each other and she finally crossed her arms. “One day.”

“One week.”

“3 days.”

He grinned at her, “4 days.”

“Fine, keep your little pet. 4 days and then he’s out of here.” She looked at the kitchen, “And he has to clean the place.”

“Sure, Tabby.” He leaned in to kiss her but she turned her back, stomping upstairs. “Alright, I guess we’ll catch up later.”

He was still glancing the way she had gone when he went back into the kitchen. Oswald was sitting at the table, and he met Butch’s eyes, “Do I have to go?”

“In a couple days. We’ll see how it goes. For now we’ll get you some clothes and maybe try to figure out what Arkham did to you.”

His face lit up at that and his voice was so earnest, “They fixed me.”

“Sure, Buddy.”

“Doesn’t he have that weird best friend? Ned?”

Butch shook his head, “He tried to go to Ed and the man kicked him out. I looked for him but he is deceptively hard to track down and hold on to.”

Tabby looked at Oswald sitting there quietly in the other kitchen chair, “Any suggestions from you?”

His head came up to look at her, but they had been over this relentlessly the last week. No, he had no other friends. No idea where else he could go. He only shook his head, “I’m sorry.”

Her attention went back to Butch, “Give him to Jim Gordon. Everyone knows Penguin is like in love with him or whatever.”

“I am not in love with Jim Gordon.” It was probably the most force that had been behind anything the man had said since he got there. Telling.

“Gordon is in blackgate.”

Tabitha ran a hand over her face, “So drop him off at a clinic or shelter. Your days are up and he needs to go. Turn him into the police.”

“Okay, besides that it would include  _ snitching to the police _ , he isn’t guilty of anything! He was released!”

“Bullock said he would take him.”

“If we paid him and it was okay that he stayed in a dog crate.” 

Oswald’s eyes skittered between them and he mumbled out, “Please, I don’t want to stay in a dog crate.” He tried to keep the smile on his face but it was humiliating to listen to them try to figure out where to send him, like he was a child. Or a dog no one wanted.

“No one is putting you in a dog crate.” He caught the look on Tabitha’s face and said more pointed, “No one.”

“Whatever. Something has to be done.”

Butch gave her his best smile, reaching out to pat Oswald’s knee, “Tabitha, come on. He barely makes a peep, he’s done anything you asked him. He isn’t hurting anything staying here.”

“He  _ killed _ my brother.”

“And you know why.” He didn’t say the words, they had a meeting to get to in 15 minutes and he didn’t have the time to manage a breakdown from Oswald and if he said it there would be a breakdown. He gave Tabitha a warning look, but she knew it too. 

Oswald’s eyes had been darting back and forth between them and his voice wobbled, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a problem. I’ll leave today.”

“Good.”

“No.”

Butch and Tabitha met eyes, both glaring and Oswald sunk back further into his chair. They finally broke the stare when Butch glanced down at his watch and swore. 

“We can’t miss this meeting. We’ll talk this out when we get back.” Tabitha rolled her eyes but headed towards the door and Butch turned his attention to Oswald. “It’s okay. We’ll be back soon.”

“Okay, Butch.” 

Butch gave him a strained smile and then was hustling out the door leaving Oswald alone in the kitchen. He glanced around, trying to think of what he could do to maybe make Tabitha happier. Everything was clean though, dishes done, floors swept. It was uncomfortable, he knew that he was causing a problem between Butch and Tabitha and he didn’t want to do that. Butch was his friend, maybe his only friend, and he didn’t want to do anything that would hurt him. 

He was a grown man, he shouldn’t need to be such a burden to his friend. He was scared to leave, not sure where else to go, but Butch had helped him out when he needed it and it wasn’t fair to wear out his welcome anymore. 

He slipped out of the kitchen, heading towards the stairs. The guards watched him half heartedly, there wasn’t anyone anymore that thought he was dangerous. Which should be a good thing, he wanted to be someone that was safe to be around. He wanted to be good. Somewhere deep down it grated though, in a place he didn’t even really remember. 


	2. Chapter 2

Oswald hesitated at what he took with him when he left. It didn’t feel right taking anything that Butch had bought him, it hadn’t been his money. He could always come back, maybe Butch would come look for him. Maybe once he was gone they would miss him.

It was a good thought that made him smile, Butch was his friend after all. He would just go out and start looking for a job again, and maybe that would be enough to get Tabitha to warm up to him. To let him stay. 

He was all the way to the door when one of the muscle finally paid him attention, “Where you heading little bird?”

He stumbled to a stop and gave the man a grin, “I’m going to go look for a job.”

The man eyed him and glanced at the other guard, “Is he allowed to leave?” There was a shrug and the man looked back at him. “Why don’t you stay here till the boss gets back.”

“It’s okay, I’m just going to-”

The man grabbed his arm tight enough to bruise and dragged him back to the stairs, giving him a shove that made him stumble over the bottom step and land on his knees. “Stay put, that’s a good boy.”

They were both chuckling as he pushed himself back to his feet, and he tried to give them a smile but it wobbled around the edges, “Okay, sorry.” He awkwardly chuckled with them, “Yea, that was funny.”

That made them laugh more and his face flushed as he retreated back up the stairs. He wanted to leave. He waited until they went back to not paying attention and headed towards the kitchen. There was different muscle at the back door and he smiled at them and stuttered out, “I’m s-supposed to go on an errand for Butch.” He wasn’t supposed to lie, and his stomach twisted, but he wanted to leave. 

This one was less interested in him and just waved a hand and he thanked him as he slipped out the door. Outside he hurried to get away before someone brought him back, though he wasn’t sure where he was going to go.

He only made it a few blocks when he realized there was someone following him and he turned to look, frozen when he realized it was the Wendell brothers. 

He backed against the building when they approached him, darting his eyes between the two of them.

“What do we have here?”

“H-Hello.”

“Where’s Butch, huh? You all by yourself out here?”

“He is nearby.” More lying but he was desperate now.

Gary was close enough to tug on Oswald’s shirt, “Looks like someone has come into some money, new clothes and all, so where is the money you owe us?”

“I don’t have any money.” 

Jerry grinned like he had hoped that was the answer, “That’s okay, we can take payment in another way. You remember.”

“I should really be on my way.”

“I think you should come with us.” One of them threw an arm around his shoulders and he had no choice but to go with them. 

He was brought to a car and as a last ditch effort he tried to get away before they could push him in but there was a right hook and then everything went black.

Oswald startled awake at a loud sound, barely aware of what was going on when there was another bang. He scrambled to move, he was lying on the floor in the middle of a warehouse and there was no where to hide. He didn’t know what was happening. 

“Oswald?”

“Butch?” He scrambled to his feet, and felt like he could suddenly breath again when he saw the man. “Butch!”

He started to move towards him, “I got grabbed by…” He stumbled to a stop when he reached Butch, staring at the two dead bodies on the ground Gary and Jerry. “Butch, what did you do?” His voice when high pitched.

“Not surprised they grabbed you, what were you even doing out wandering around? You have to know that people are looking to kill you. Let’s get out of here.” 

Butch made it a few feet before he realized that Oswald wasn’t following him. “Oswald?”

“You killed them?”

“They’ve probably had it coming for awhile. I wasn’t gonna let them touch you again, that is for sure as fuck. Let’s go.”

“You have to turn yourself in.”

“Are you out of your mind? We need to go now.”

“We need to stay here and call the police.”

When he still didn’t move Butch grabbed his arm but he yanked it free. There were already sirens in the distance and finally Butch threw his hands in the air. “Fine, stay if that is what you got to do, Oz, but I’m leaving and I swear to God if you tell them it was me.”

The sirens were closer and Butch was gone out the door. Oswald stood there, staring at the two dead men and his heart was racing. He was scared but he was a good man, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Things would be okay.

It happened fast, even for Gotham. The responding officers had dragged him in and threw him in a cell in the precinct without asking him any questions. Once he was there he tried to ask for detective Gordon, or Bullock but no one paid him any attention. 

He wanted to be a good boy, and do what he was told. He was innocent, and no one seemed to listen to him. No one seemed to care. 

Finally he was brought into a small room, hands cuffed around a metal loop in the table, and an officer he didn’t recognize came in to talk to him. 

“Oswald Cobblepot. Do you know why you are here?”

“I think there was a misunderstanding, officer, Please. May I speak to detective Bullock?”

“You were found standing over two dead bodies, what was the misunderstanding?”

“Well, I…” He stumbled over his words and tried to smile, “I didn’t do that to those men…”

“Who did then?”

He sat back and chewed on his lip. He didn’t want to give Butch up, and he struggled with the conflict of doing what was right. It was right to tell them who murdered those men, but it was also right to protect his friend. He finally settled on a quiet, “It wasn’t me.”

“Very convincing. What’s another two dead bodies added to your count, right?”  
His heart started to race and his shoulders hunched, “I’m sorry. I feel very badly for everything bad that I’ve done. I have remorse and professor Strange said that was very normal.”

“Sure Penguin. Save it for someone that will buy your bullshit.”

“It’s not…” He pulled on the cuffs, making them clang, and then flinched at the sound. “I’m sane now. I have a certificate.”

“Why don’t you take a break, grab a cup of coffee.”

Oswald and the officer both looked towards the door, and Oswald was so happy to see Detective Bullock. He knew the man hated him, but he thought he would listen at least. Detective Gordon had been a good influence on the man and if Jim could trust him then Oswald thought maybe he could too. Also Bullock had talked to Butch so maybe he knew that Oswald was sane now. That he was a good man and wouldn’t do this. 

“Sure, Detective.”  
Once he was out of the room Oswald met his eyes, “Detective Bullock.”

“Didn’t take you long to get back on the murder horse, did it?”

“I didn’t kill them. I waited for the police.”

“Not your brightest moment, I imagine.” Bullock sat across from him and stared hard, like he was trying to figure him out. “I heard you were… different. Nice. I read all the reports from Arkham when they released you because I knew it was all bullshit.”

His heart was sinking as he realized no one believed him that he was good now. He lowered his eyes to the table, “It isn’t. I worked very hard to get better. I'm nice.” 

“You wouldn’t know nice if paid your rent and made you a sandwich.”

He glanced up at Bullock and back down, “I know it isn’t nice to say you would put people in dog crates.”

Bullock barked out a laugh at that but it faded quickly. “Well, someone in high places really does not like you Cobblepot. They are pushing this through as a violation of your release from Arkham. Which I’m not even sure is legal, but it’s out of my hands.”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe and whimpered out, “I’m going back to Arkham?”

Something flashed in Bullock’s eyes, something that said he didn’t agree with what was happening, “No, based on a testimony from Professor Strange that you are, in fact, sane, they are sending you to Blackgate.”

“Blackgate?” He knew his voice broke. He knew what kind of place it was there, the type of people that were in prison, and he’d never survive. He’d been knocked around when he was in Arkham and those people weren’t nearly as dangerous, at least not in the same way. If he was kind and friendly to them, most were the same back. But in Blackgate?

“Detective Bullock? But… I didn’t do anything. Can’t you help me?”

“Like I said Penguin, someone really has it out for you. It’s out of our hands. They are going to move you later today. For your sake I hope this new friendlier you is an act.” Bullock pushed to his feet, and headed to the door but hesitated, “Listen, it isn’t like you don’t deserve to be there, but for what it’s worth, I’ll see if there is anything I can do.”

He felt a bit like he might be in shock and he could only nod at Bullock’s words. “Th-thank you, detective.” The man gave him a regretful look and then he was all alone.


	3. Chapter 3

“Gordon, I hear a friend of yours is arriving today.”

Jim only grunted in response to the guard, if he wanted to keep his temper it was easier to ignore him. The man was laughing so he was sure that meant someone else that hated him, wanted him dead, but he already had plenty of those, what was one more?

The guard shrugged, “Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He didn't leave though, just hovered around the door.

He sighed and glanced up from the book in his hand, clearly the man wasn’t just going to go away, “Who?”

“Penguin. You’re the one that arrested him, aren’t you? I wonder how he feels about that.”

Jim sat up straighter, “Oswald Cobblepot is in Arkham.”

“Not anymore he isn’t. He’s arriving here today.”

He knew he was making his unhappy face, he couldn’t help it, and the guard laughed before heading off to harass someone else. Oswald was a… complication. He could usually handle him though, it was just a matter of if he wanted to.

Or what friends Oswald gained before Jim could sway him from his revenge. He dropped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. They had agreed that Oswald would take the rap for it, hell the man had wanted to shout from the rooftops that  _ he _ had been the one to kill Galavan. He remembered his face when he’d seen him in Arkham though.

He’d been focused on what they were doing, and had dismissed him. Oswald said he was being tortured, begged him to help, and honestly he knew Oswald pretty well at this point and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t believed him. He just hadn’t  _ cared. _

The fact that he had resorted to yelling that Jim had killed Galavan, when it seemed to be the thing the man was the most proud of saying he did? He knew the man was desperate but his mind was on Lee and keeping her safe and he’d meant to follow up on it. Check on him, but he he’d been busy. Obviously.

So normally he would have a good idea of what Penguin would do, of what steps would be necessary to subdue him, but who knew what had happened to him in Arkham. If he had been tortured he could be unstable, vengeful and even his predictable bird could be trouble for him. Like he needed more trouble.

The bus with inmates arrived mid morning and Jim watched them off load. It was easy to spot Oswald, even without the limp. He looked small between the other inmates and something about his body language was off. 

Jim watched him move into the building with his hands tucked against his chest, his head down, and usually the man was much more alert. Though, arriving at Blackgate could subdue anyone for awhile he supposed. That obnoxious smarmy attitude was sure to kick back in any time, this place should be the man’s element.

Which was enough to piss off Jim. That he was trapped here unfairly, that these kind of places were only awful for good men, and that men like Oswald flourished in them. 

He’d find the man at meal time, and he’d be firm and threatening if he had to and figure out if Oswald was going to try something.

After getting his tray of food he scanned the room and spotted Oswald. The man was sitting at the end of a long table, no one around him, no tray in front of him and his steps slowed as he moved towards him. His instincts, his cop instincts, were telling him something was very wrong.

He pushed through, sitting across from Oswald and slamming his tray down, watching as the man flinched and curled in tighter before he glanced up. 

“Oswald.”

“Jim.” His voice was so soft, so excited. So relieved. 

Which was odd but Jim was stuck on the man’s face. He had a quickly swelling black eye and his nose was bleeding, a trickle of blood down his face. It looked recent and Jim swallowed hard, glancing around to try to figure out what had happened. 

“I’m so glad to see you Jim. Are you doing well?”

“Where is your tray?”

Oswald looked down, anxiously pulling his sleeves over his hands, before he glanced at the inmates on the far side of the table. Jim followed his gaze and could see a large man with two trays in front of him, laughing, and he looked back to Oswald. 

“It’s okay. He was probably hungry.”

Jim leaned back, “Is that what happened to your face?”

“I told him he could have it, he didn’t need to…” Oswald’s face twisted like he might cry, and he rubbed his sleeve across it, and looked surprised when it came away with blood. “But it’s okay. He’s probably been having a hard time in here.”

“What game are you playing, Penguin?”

His eyes raised to Jim’s and held them, trying to smile. “Please, it is just Oswald. If that’s okay.” When Jim stared at him the smile wavered, “Or you can if you want. You can call me whatever you want.”

“What happened to you in Arkham?”

Oswald tilted his head, “They fixed me. I’m sane now. I have… had a certificate. I’d show you but I’m not sure where it is now.”

“You said they were torturing you.”

A distinct unease colored Oswald’s face and he swallowed shakily, “They were … uncomfortable. But you were right. It was therapy.” Oswald’s eyes darted down to Jim’s tray and back up but he saw the flash of hunger there.

Jim honestly wasn’t sure if the man was pretending or not. It wasn’t the usual ploy that Penguin would use, he had a hard time seeing the man voluntarily allowing himself to be knocked around like that. He grabbed his apple and slid the rest of the tray of food across the table until it bumped into Oswald.

He looked down at it and back up at Jim, “Oh, I couldn’t possibly. You are probably hungry, I wouldn’t want to.”

“Eat.” Jim took a bite out of the apple and watched as Oswald glanced at the others around them and then awkwardly picked up the fork. 

He hesitated, “If you are sure…”

“You probably didn’t eat while they were transporting. I remember I went almost a day when I was being processed before I was here. Right?” Oswald nodded, and Jim tilted his head towards the food. It said even more about what was going on, maybe if the man wasn’t hungry he wouldn’t have put up a fight about his tray, but he clearly was. 

He wasn’t dumb though, and wasn’t willing to risk the chance that this was some kind of game. Some kind of setup. He had enough concern watching his own back. He waited until the man had eaten, cutting down on the chances that someone would take another tray from him if this was legit, before he abruptly pushed to his feet. 

Oswald started at the sudden movement and started to push to his feet as well but Jim shook his head. “I don’t know what you are playing at, but I won’t be part of it Penguin. So you can just keep your distance.” Oswald’s face crumbled a little as he sunk back into his seat. 

That simpering smile was still there though and he clasped his hands together, “Maybe we can talk again? I know I’ve done bad things and I’d like to apologize. Maybe we could-”

He slapped a hand down on the table, making the man jump. “Stay out of my way Oswald, got it?”

There was so much disappointment on his face and Jim didn’t know if it was because he was leaving or because the man’s deception wasn’t working. Either way, it wasn’t his problem. He had to talk to Bullock, he knew things were tense right now but it would have been nice to get a heads up about Oswald coming. Bullock had to know that the man would be a threat to him. 

He glanced back at Oswald though, without him there the man was back to huddling in on himself and it occurred to him that maybe Bullock hadn’t thought to warn him because Oswald  _ wasn’t _ a threat. 

Jim leaned a shoulder against the wall, holding the prison payphone to his ear as he waited for Bullock to answer. 

When he did his voice was harried, stressed, “You know I’m working on things, you don’t need to check up.”

“Did you know that Cobblepot is here?"

There was a long silence and Bullock’s voice was quieter. “They let him out of Arkham, can you believe that? Said he was sane.”

“Did you talk with him?”

“Before he went in.” He could practically see Bullock fighting with himself about what to say. “He’s not right though. Have you seen him?”

“Yes.”

“He’s been like that since he got out, Arkham did a number on him. Kind of creepy, isn’t it? He got picked up with two dead scum bags, claimed he didn’t do it. Honestly I think I believe him. Someone wanted him in blackgate though.”

Unwanted he had a moment of empathy for Oswald, of connection. “Is it an act?”

“I don’t think so.”

Jim ran a hand over his face and settled the phone against his ear, changing the subject. “Any other news?”

And there was enough information there to distract him from Oswald Cobblepot for the moment.


	4. Chapter 4

No matter what he had said Jim couldn’t help keeping an eye on Oswald. He told himself that he was trying to catch the man breaking the act, and not at all that he was worried about what would happen to him. 

He watched the open room from his cell and could see Oswald sitting by himself in his cell and he turned his attention to the paperwork in front of him, trying to look for some sort of detail. After a few minutes he glanced up and realized that Oswald was no longer in his cell and he scanned the room, looking for him. 

When he didn’t see him he cautiously moved to his feet, stepping out of his cell. In one of the off corners of the room there was a gathering of inmates and his heart sunk as he moved towards it. Closer there was the sound of someone desperately babbling, whimpering, and Jim had never so badly hoped to find Penguin torturing someone. It was better than the alternative.

Oswald was on the ground, face was bloody again, one arm wrapped around his ribs, staring at the large inmate in front of him. “Please…I’m sorry, please don’t.” His shirt was yanked out of his pants, and when he was dragged to his feet there was a flash of stomach before he was shoved face first against the wall.

The man was laughing, “Thought the King of Gotham would be a bit tougher.” The man reached around Oswald’s waist, fingers on the button on his pants, “What do you think guys? Do Penguins like it doggy style?”

And there was no way this was a plan because everything Jim knew about Oswald said the man would never let himself be disgraced like this, and definitely not when there was nothing to gain. The inmate holding him, Jim didn’t even know his name, had no power. This wasn’t Oswald trying to integrate himself with someone that would protect him, that would give him any control.

No, this was simply Oswald unable to protect himself.

“Hey!”

Oswald tried to twist to look at him but the man shoved his head forward into the wall, letting him go to face Jim as the head blow made him stumble, grasping onto the wall to keep his balance. And if the turned back wasn’t a sign that Oswald didn’t register as a threat to anyone he didn’t know what else was. 

“What do you want?”

Jim eyed the men, there were four of them, but he wasn’t sure how many of them were willing to fight over this. The odds weren’t great, but he’d been in worse. It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t leave Oswald here. He motioned at Oswald. “Came to have a chat with my friend.”

The man laughed at that and one of his cronies elbowed him, “Hear that Jerry? Penguin is his friend.”

“You can chat with your friend with I’m done with him.”

“I think I’d like to chat with him now.”

Jerry, apparently, moved up until they were chest to chest, trying to intimidate with his bigger size. Jim let out a long suffering sigh. “This doesn’t have to happen.”

Jerry shrugged, “Penguin is mine. Move along.”

Jim ran a hand over his face and glanced around Jerry to look at Oswald. He was leaning against the wall, tears and blood on his face. “How you doing Oz?” The man swallowed hard and didn’t say anything, big eyes begging Jim. Funny how many times he’d seen that look from the man even before whatever had happened to him in Arkham.

“Right.” He started to roll up his sleeves. “Actually, he’s mine. So let’s do this.”

“He’s yours?” The man sounded incredulous.

Jim shrugged, “Yea for like… how long ago was the dock, Oswald?” He didn’t really expect an answer and added, “For awhile. Last chance to walk away.”

Oswald’s eyes were darting between the men and he wanted to tell Jim to walk away before he got hurt. Didn’t want to be the reason that Jim was injured but he couldn’t bring himself to. Not when he knew what he was going to be left to. It warred with his feelings of being good, of trying to be better, but not wanting to be … violated was valid too. He was sure of it. And Jim had said he was  _ his _ . It made his chest ache and his stomach twist.

Also, Jim didn’t look particularly worried. Oswald glanced around and didn’t see any guards, and he had the feeling that none of them would come to investigate. 

He startled when suddenly chaos broke out in front of him.

Jerry lunged forward and Jim easily moved out of the way, throwing an elbow to catch him in the back of his head as he missed him. The one that had spoke moved forward and got a hit in but Jim threw a fist, knee coming up when another body was in front of him and after that it was a blur. Fists and knees and he could feel a few times they got good hits in but eventually, his chest heaving, he was the only one still standing. Glad to see he hadn’t lost it.

His eyes shifted to Oswald plastered against the wall and he tucked his own hand around his side where he had take an elbow to the ribs, but he put his other hand out. An invitation. Oswald still clung to the wall though and Jim spoke, voice a little strained from the exertion. Maybe a swelling jaw. “Come on Ozzy, we need to leave.”

Finally the man pushed off the wall and even from this far away he could see that he was shaking. As soon as he was close enough he grabbed his shirt and jerked him forward, pushing Oswald in front of him in the general direction of his cell. The fight had happened fast and he was sure the guards knew what had happened but as long as he wasn’t there when they came to check it out it would be fine. They weren’t interested enough in the fate of the inmates to investigate more than that, not if no one was dead. 

His slid his hand up until he wrapped it around the collar of Oswald’s shirt, practically dragging him now. Uncaring of how it looked or if it was too rough, frustrated that he had been forced into doing this. He glanced around when they reached his cell, there were several inmates watching them, caution on their faces. So much for flying under the radar. There were a few eyeing Oswald too and he spared a moment to glare them down before he shoved the man into his cell, watching him stumble, whimpering. 

As soon as the man caught his balance he whirled, slamming himself into Jim and wrapped arms around him. For a second he thought he had been tricked, that this was a trap, but then he realized the man was hugging him. Crying into his shoulder. What did he do to deserve this?

He let him stay there for a moment, awkwardly pressing a hand between the man’s shoulder blades, rubbing small circles. Once the tears eased off he carefully, wary of the man’s injuries, untangled him and pushed him back enough that he could see his face. “What happened?”

“I didn’t do anything. I was sitting in my cell, I was being good.” His eyes darted down, something like guilt on his face. “They wanted me to be bad with them, but they reacted badly when I said I wasn’t bad anymore.” He scuffed his foot and anxiously pressed against his side, “Thank you Jim, I’m sorry that you got dragged into that. You should have… you shouldn’t have put yourself at risk. I had wanted to apologize for the bad things I did, to other people and to you, and now I have more to apologize for.”

Jim put a hand on Oswald’s chest and pushed him backwards until the back of his knees hit the cot and he fell backwards on to it. Before he could ask what was happening Jim pulled up the chair in the room to sit in front of him, grabbing his chin to tilt his face up, fingers tracing the bruises. Oswald couldn’t help making a small sound in his throat, not sure if it was because of the pain or something else. 

There was a trace of a smile on Jim’s face. “Let me get this blood cleaned up and see what kind of damage they did.”

“You’re hurt too, you shouldn’t-”

“You know what they were going to do Oswald. There is no should or shouldn’t, that wasn’t going to happen. Won’t happen. I won’t allow it. Sit still.” He was wiping at his face with a wet cloth and Oswald did his best to sit still. It hurt, his lip split and nose bleeding, but he’d had much worse. Once the blood was wiped away Jim pressed against his nose and jaw making him wince, but dropped his hands once he determined nothing was broken.

But then he was grabbing Oswald’s shirt, pulling it up, and he squeaked trying to grab it and hold it down. For a moment Jim was going to yank it out of his hands, using brute force with Oswald was practically second nature at this point, but he wasn’t sure he was dealing with the same man he had known. Couldn’t help respond to the panic in fear on the man’s face, in every line of his body as he huddled on his cot. So instead he took a deep breath and calmed himself. “Ozzy, I want to look at your ribs, okay? Let me do that.”

Slowly like it pained him to do it Oswald let go of his shirt and Jim tugged it up, pressing against Oswald’s shoulder so he leaned out of the hunch so he could get a better look. The bruises were already dark, spreading out across the man’s entire side. He gently touched him, running fingers over each rib until he was sure they weren’t broken. Probably bruised, but nothing felt out of place.

Once he let go of his shirt Oswald scrambled to pull it back down, face red and flushed. “Doesn’t look to bad, looks like you got lucky.”

“It wasn’t luck that saved me, it was you.” Big soft eyes looked up at him, grateful and warm without any of the dangerous spark that Oswald always had.

Jim swallowed hard and purposely leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “What the hell did they do to you in Arkham?”


	5. Chapter 5

Oswald tried to explain, he really did. He wanted Jim to understand that this wasn’t just an act, that this was the new him. The good him. Only, trying to describe what they had done in Arkham made him feel sick, the words sticking in his throat until he felt like he was choking on them. 

It didn’t help that Jim just stood there in front of him, arms crossed, giving Oswald that stoic cop face that didn’t tell him anything. Not if the man believed him, not if the man was angry, not if the man wanted to be friends now. Nothing. 

He lost track of what he was saying and stuttered over a few words, “Pr-professor Strange said … said it  _ should _ h-hurt…” His voice faded away as the bile rose in his throat when he thought about what had hurt and he tried to swallow it down so he could continue his story. He had to be able to convince Gordon. 

“I knew there was something off about that Strange.”

Oswald’s head came up at that, “What?”

Jim let out a sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face, “I should have listened to you.” 

The words eased the tightness in his chest, and it would be easy to let them go but he had to make sure that Jim understood. “It’s a good thing, Jim. I’m better like this.”

Jim snorted, finally stepping back and easing his stance as he leaned on the sink in his cell, “You would think that’d be true.”

He tried to smile, tried not to let it show on his face how badly those words hurt. Of course it was true. Professor strange had told him that good things happened to good people and he was supposed to be good now. But… good things weren’t happening, so maybe he wasn’t doing it right. Maybe he still wasn’t good enough. 

Fingers pressed under his chin, startling him, but Gordon just tilted his face up so he could meet his eyes, “I don’t know exactly what all this is right now, but what he did to you wasn’t okay Oswald. What you described, that is torture. It’s okay to be mad about it.”

For a brief moment he touched on that, the rage and resentment, but so conditioned to the punishment for those thoughts it felt like an actual shock reminiscent of the electro therapy went through him and he whimpered and cringed, wrapping his arms around him. No, it wasn’t right to think like that. It was just him being selfish. He muttered out, “I deserved all that.”

Jim sat on the ledge of the sink, “Okay, so tell me how you ended up in here?”

That was a little easier. “I was released from Arkham and I needed a place to stay while I looked for a job. Butch let me stay with him for awhile, though he wasn’t really happy about it. There were two men that I was having trouble with.”

“The two you killed?”

His spine straightened and he met Jim’s eyes, “I did not kill anyone. I don’t do that anymore.”

Jim waved his hand, “Okay, go on.”

“Jerry and Gary-”

“The Wendell brothers.” There was a note of finality in Jim’s voice, the same that had been in Butch’s when they were mentioned and Jim huffed out an angry sound, his eyes scanning up and down Oswald like he could see if they had done something. “They hurt you?”

“Yes. They said I owed them money and they became violent a few times.”

Jim was clearly uneasy but he had never been one to beat around the bush, “Did they rape you? I’ve seen the files on them.”

Oswald’s mouth went dry and he  _ knew  _ that everyone knew what they did, knew what it meant every time Butch said it like _ that  _ and gave Tabitha  _ that  _ look, but no one had actually come out and said it. He didn’t want to answer, but he knew if he didn’t he would think the worst, and he didn’t have much pride left but some part of him wasn’t okay with Jim Gordon thinking that had happened to him. He hadn’t corrected Butch, hadn’t tried to explain, but this was different. “They didn’t actually have sex with me.” The words were almost harder to say than talking about Arkham, “They touched, but they didn’t do…  _ that _ .” His nerve broke and he couldn’t say it again. Couldn’t say the actual words. 

Gordon’s face had softened though, and he nodded. “Okay. So what happened?”

“They attacked me and planned on being violent and someone stepped in to protect me before they could and that person killed them.”

“Butch, then.” Oswald’s mouth opened, a small sound making its way out before he snapped it shut, averting his eyes. “Listen, at this point I don’t care who it was Oswald. Why didn’t you get out of there with this friend? I’m assuming since you’re by yourself in here they weren’t caught.”

“I waited for the police to explain. It wasn’t right to kill those men.” He tugged at his sleeve, “They wouldn’t listen when I said it wasn’t me. They said I violated my release from Arkham but because I’m sane they wanted me to come here instead of back there.” His voice was small and he couldn’t help the waver, “I would have rather gone back there. Professor Strange is my friend.”

“I’m your friend.” Gordon’s face looked sour even as he said it but that wasn’t enough to ruin it for Oswald. His face lit up, all he had ever wanted was for Gordon to be his friend. The man was still talking, “Even here you’re probably safer with me than back with Strange.” He glanced out at the bars and frowned, “Maybe. The real question is what am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t want to be a bother.” He glanced around, looking through the bars at his own cell and forced the words out even though fear bubbled up at the thought of what he was going to say, “I can go back to my cell. I don’t want to cause you more trouble.”

“You aren’t going anywhere, not until lock up. Just… stay with me when you can. Next to me. Don’t wander off. Maybe there is something Harvey could do.”

Oswald huffed out through his nose, still bitter about the man’s threat. Gordon grinned at the noise, “Not a fan?”

“He was going to put me in a dog crate.”

It surprised him when Jim laughed, made him hunch his shoulders and cross his arms tighter, because it wasn’t funny. Jim was still laughing though, and he wasn’t sure he had ever seen the man laugh this much and slowly his arms uncrossed, watching him. He swallowed down the embarrassment and tried to offer up a smile, “That’s funny?”

“No. Maybe.” He could see the man trying to get a hold of himself and he chewed nervously on his lip. Jim noticed and finally the laughter faded to just a smile, “No, not in that way. Just hearing you say those words and sounding so … scandalized. It was better than you sounding okay with it.” Jim met his eyes and there was another quick snort of laughter and Oswald trained his eyes on the ground, unable to stop the hurt from showing on his face. Jim was being mean, and maybe he deserved it, but it didn’t feel nice.

“Does it make you mad?”

“No.” The word was automatic and he winced, because he wasn’t supposed to lie either. He settled for muttering, “It’s not nice.”

“No, it isn’t.” Jim was in his space again, grabbing one of his arms to pull him to his feet and it left them uncomfortably close. He trained his eyes on Jim’s shoulder, not sure what was going on. “You should be mad about someone threatening to treat you like that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for you not wanting to murder and maim people, but I don’t like this. I don’t trust this.”

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled, unable to help it.

Jim shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll figure this out. In the meantime I will keep you safe, just like I did on the dock, right?”

It was supposed to be reassuring he supposed, but it just made him remember the person he had been, what he had done, but he nodded. “Yes, Jim, thank you.”

Jim made a face, “Just to be completely honest I may have a target on my back here, so being near me might bring you the wrong attention.”

Oswald swallowed hard and leaned a bit closer to the man, holding his breath once they were nearly pressed together, the touch comforting. And he was honest back, “I already have the wrong attention on me.”

“Yes, you do.” Jim cleared his throat and his tone sounded apologetic, “Is there any chance that maybe while you are here you could be… not quite so soft?” Oswald met his eyes and didn’t know what to say to that. This  _ wasn’t _ an act, it was just him. He shook his head the same time Gordon did, both of the speaking at the same time “Right. Stupid question.”

He couldn’t help himself, “It’s not an act-”

“I believe you.” He grabbed his chin again and tilted his face up, and there was a softness that Jim had never looked at him before with. “It’s okay, Oz. I believe you.”

And this close to Jim he couldn’t help it as he blushed, as Tabitha’s words came back to him. ‘ _ Everyone knows penguin is in love with Gordon _ ’. Before he could think about it anymore, before he could say something stupid that would only embarrass him, Jim dropped his hands and stepped back. 

“At least I got someone to talk to now.”

The man sat down next to him on the cot and Oswald moved just a little away, putting distance between them, still flustered by the close contact. He struggled to focus on what Jim had said, “You haven’t made any friends?”

“You remember I’m a cop, right?”

“Yes, Jim.” It was an automatic answer but then he realized what he said, “Oh, right.” And he felt stupid that he hadn’t said anything earlier. “Why are you here?”

“It’s a long story Oz, but I was set up.”

They shared an understanding look and Jim leaned back against the wall, “So, anything interesting happening on the outside?”

At first the conversation between them was awkward, stilted, but it eased into something bordering on friendly when there was a loud buzzer through the room. Oswald startled, flinching, as his hand darted out to grab onto Jim’s shirt. 

Jim’s eyes darted down to it as Oswald sheepishly let go, but he didn’t say anything. Just rocked to his feet and put his hand out to help Oswald up, “Come on, that means it’s dinner time. Back to cells after that for lock up, you’ll be safe.”`

He nodded, following after Jim as they lined up, standing just a touch too close. Jim gave him a half grin and put one hand on his chest, forcing him back a step. “You gotta work with me here a little Ozzy, okay? You can’t cling like that.”

His face flushed, feeling warm all the way to his ears as he nodded, taking another step back. He felt safer the closer he was to Jim though, and when someone slid into line behind him he didn’t mean to but he stumbled forward, nearly back to where he had been. Jim glanced at him and then behind him at the other inmate, and didn’t tell him to move back again.

When they reached the line for food Jim snagged his sleeve and pushed him in front, giving him a nudge to keep moving. “Easier to keep an eye on you.”

That triggered something, though it felt like a shadow of a feeling, and Oswald couldn’t help it as his lips twisted. He wasn’t supposed to be like this, pathetic and helpless and… Jim’s fingers brushed his as he handed him a tray and he realized he had stopped moving. He cringed away, ashamed of his thoughts, and mumbled a thank you.

Oswald got his food and stepped away from the line, realizing that Jim was held up, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He moved halfway towards an empty table before he stopped to look back at Jim, and when he turned back around he was staring at someone’s chest. He looked up at the man, and stumbled back a few steps at the smirk on the man’s face.

“Hello Penguin, you look lost.”

“It’s… it’s Oswald.”

The man looked him up and down, and the smirk slid into something closer to a leer. “I heard that you were broken.” The man stepped closer, “Heard that you’d be easy pickings.”

He stumbled back again, a yelp escaping when he backed into someone and panicked he whipped his head around, breath rushing out when it was Jim. The man wasn’t looking at him though, he was eyeing the inmate and Jim reached out a hand to lay across Oswald’s hip and push him to the side, leaving him facing the man. 

Jim took on a better stance but his voice sounded bored, casual. “Back off, he’s mine.”

There was a tense moment but then the man just laughed and went on his way, leaving the two of them. Jim grabbed Oswald’s sleeve, pulling him along hard enough that he almost dropped the tray. “What part of stay with me didn’t you understand?”

“I was just…” He trailed off as his eyes settled on the annoyed look on Jim’s face. He wanted to defend himself, it hadn’t really been his fault, but he knew that Jim was already going out of his way for him. He shouldn’t be doing anything to make it worse. 

Jim didn’t let go of him until they reached a table, giving him a push into the seat. Jim set his tray down and sat across from him, tucking into his meal.

Oswald felt a little unsettled and he poked at his food, glancing up at Jim. He wanted to say something, anything, and finally mumbled out, “That’s the second time you’ve said I’m yours.”

Jim shrugged, voice a sharp reprimand. “Better mine than theirs.”

“No, I know.”

He didn’t know what was in his voice but it made Jim look up, and he could see the man make an effort to calm down. “It’s prison Oswald, you have to know that someone that is like you are now… they are gonna have to belong to someone.”

It unsettled him and he shifted his weight, “I belong to myself, thank you.”

“Not here you don’t.” The gruff words made him curl in on himself and he tried to mutter an affirmative but he was scared and he didn’t think any words actually made it out. He was staring down at his plate when a frustrated sigh made his eyes dart up, Jim looking at him. 

He was sure the man was going to yell at him, or maybe tell him to leave but Jim’s voice was quiet, controlled. “I’m sorry. I’m under a lot of stress, Oswald. It’s not your fault.”

“Of course.”

Jim pushed down another sigh, knowing it would only upset the man more. With how much was already on his mind he didn’t have the energy to coddle the man, and it was easy to forget that he wasn’t the Penguin. That he wasn’t the same sneaky, somewhat clever pain in the ass that would stab him in the back as soon as help him. He kept waiting for the trap to be sprung, for Oswald to give away that he was pretending, even though he knew with every instinct he had that it was legit. 

So he knew he was being hard on him. It didn’t help that when the man stood close to him, stared at him with those big trusting eyes, well. It flustered him. He didn’t like the feelings brought on by that, of what he thought of an Oswald that was sweet and friendly and staring at him like he was the most important thing in the world. So he may have lashed out, said things he knew would hurt him. Maybe a small part of him even hoped if he was cruel enough the  _ other _ Oswald would come out and he wouldn’t be his problem anymore.

But instead it was like kicking a whimpering dog. He could almost hear Lee’s voice telling him to be nicer. So he set his fork down, “Oswald, look at me.”

The man did immediately, even though he clearly didn’t want to. And man, Arkham had done a number on him, that was certain. “Are you okay?” He put a hand up to stop him from talking, “And I don’t mean the bruises.”

Oswald hesitated before he answered, torn between trying to not be a bother and wanting to be honest. “I’m not… I’m not handling coming here well, Jim.”

He waited until he met his eyes and gave him a soft grin, “Anyone that is sane, anyone that is a good person, wouldn’t handle it well, Oz.”

The words sunk in and Oswald couldn’t help smiling back, swallowing down the anxiety he had been feeling. “Thank you, Jim.”

He gave him that quick half grin before he went back to eating and Oswald did the same. Even though the food was sub par he was hungry, and he was thankful Jim had helped him earlier. He could only imagine how hungry he’d be otherwise.

After dinner Jim was right as they were herded back into their cells. There was a pang of loss as he had to leave Jim’s side, though the man reached out to give his shoulder a quick squeeze before they split up. He stood outside his cell waiting for final count, keeping his eyes down, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

The inmate in the cell next to him didn’t let him though, leaning towards him, “Gordon ain’t gonna be able to protect you all the time, bitch. I can wait, not like I got anything else to do here. I think I’ll enjoy getting to fuck the  _ Penguin _ .” He made his nickname sound like even more of a mockery than it usually was.

The crudeness of the words made him shudder, wrapping his arms around himself but he didn’t look up at Jim. Didn’t look to him for reassurance. He could handle  _ words _ . He went into his cell as soon as he could, curling up on the thin cot. As long as it stayed words he could handle it. 

What left him awake in his cell, staring at the wall as he was too afraid to sleep, was what would happen if Jim got sick of him. Stopped protecting him. He’d be helpless.

He could handle hurtful words but didn’t know what he would do if it moved beyond that.   



	6. Chapter 6

A loud buzzing woke Oswald up and it took him a moment to remember where he was and his heart sank. He curled up into a tighter ball, burying his head against his arms, even after he heard the sound of the cells opening. 

He was terrified to move, and when there were footsteps outside of his cell he whimpered into his pillow. 

“Cobblepot, count.” Even though it was clearly a guard and he knew he should listen he couldn’t bring himself to move. “Cobblepot, move it.” The voice was more impatient and he only had a moment between that and the guard coming into his cell.

They grabbed him by the back of his uniform, yanking him out of his bed so he landed on the ground with a thud, barely processing that when he was kicked hard in the side. “Get the fuck up Cobblepot.”

He wrapped his arms around his stomach where he had been kicked, his whole body shaking as it jarred his injured ribs. He couldn’t help it as he started crying, trying to get to his feet even as he whimpered out, “I’m sorry, sorry. Okay.”

Halfway to his feet the guard grabbed him and yanked him up rough enough that he almost toppled back over but he managed to keep his feet under him. He was dragged out of the cell and shoved against the gate as the guard continued down the line for count.

Though he was trying to stop he was still crying, hunched over and arms wrapped protectively around himself while the inmates on either side of him laughed. He finally raised his eyes to look for Jim and the man was watching him, frown firmly in place, and he quickly dropped his eyes. 

It was humiliating, and he knew he had to pull himself together, that he had to try to not be as soft, like Gordon had said. He scrubbed at his face again, sniffling pathetically. He had gotten much better at handling humiliation since he Arkham, and had learned how to not fly off the handle. 

Strange had taught him to simply take it, but part of him knew that wasn’t right, that it was okay to stand up for himself. But the thought made him feel queasy. 

After count he got dressed to go to breakfast, desperate to get back to Jim. They lined up and headed towards the cafeteria and though they were lined up he caught Gordon moving towards him and when the man reached him he grabbed him by the back of the shirt like scruffing a disobedient puppy.

Jim shoved Oswald in front of him, not letting go of his shirt, resisting the urge to knock the man upside the head. The inmates were already after him, he didn’t need to be riling up the guards too. He leaned in close to him, “What the fuck was that about?”

He didn’t know what to say, trying to get words out but all that he managed was a whimper. There was a grumble behind him but the grip loosened, just holding him instead of pushing, “You okay?”

He nodded and tried to look back at Jim but he was given a small shake for his effort and he obediently turned his eyes back forward and kept walking. His stomach was starting to feel uneasy, it wasn’t that Jim was acting oddly, he’d always handled him a bit roughly. It was just different from the day before and he didn’t know what that meant. 

“Did he get ya in the ribs again? You sure you don’t need to see a doctor?” He shook his head, he wasn’t actually sure but he wasn’t going to do anything to be a bother. He didn’t expect a chuckle behind him, “Never thought I’d say this but I’d like to hear you actually talk, Ozzy.”

He liked the sound of his name like that, like he was somebody’s friend and it took long seconds for him to pay attention to what else Jim had actually said. He tilted his head down and spoke softly, “I’m sorry. I’m okay.”

“Atta boy.” Jim finally let go of his shirt, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze, and his hands dropped away. Oswald missed the touch immediately.

A few steps inside the cafeteria he was startled when suddenly Jim grabbed the back of his shirt again, jerking him to a sudden stop. He couldn’t help it as he yelped. 

His eyes darted to Jim but the man wasn’t looking at him. A guard had pulled him aside and was whispering something urgent to him, voice low and rough. The guard’s eyes darted to him and he chewed his lip, wishing he knew what was happening.

Jim glanced at him once, letting his shirt go once he was sure Oswald was going to stay put and turned his attention back to the guard. Awkwardly Oswald crossed his arms over his stomach, glancing around the cafeteria. There were a few stares his way but he just kept his eyes moving, not meeting anyones eyes.

“Let’s move.” Jim grabbed him again, wrapping his hand in Oswald’s shirt at the small of his back. It was uncomfortable, he could feel it ruck up the back of his shirt, pull it uncomfortably tight over his stomach when he would like to hide in his clothes. He could feel that Jim was angry though he knew it wasn’t at him, but it still made the man grip him tighter, handling him roughly.

“Jim.” It was whinier than he had meant to sound but it worked.

As soon as the man heard his name his eyes snapped to Oswald like he just realized he was there and dropped his hand, smoothing out the man’s shirt automatically. “Sorry.”

They got their food without any problem and sat down at a table. Oswald glanced the direction the guard had gone and he wanted to ask what it had been about, the calculating part of his brain unable to be silenced completely. He knew what Jim’s answer would probably be, that it was none of his business, so he trained his eyes on his tray. 

“The food isn’t gonna get any better, you might as well eat.”

Oswald nodded and stopped poking at his food, dutifully eating a piece of toast. The silence was awkward and he was desperate for something to talk about, “What do we do now?”

Jim didn’t answer and it made him look up to the man grinning at him, and it was such a 180 that he didn’t know how to react. “What?”

“Yard time after breakfast. I usually go for a run.”

Oswald watched him, trying to understand the amusement in his tone. It felt like he was mocking him, “I can’t run.”

“I’m aware. Guess we find a new way to exercise. I suppose lifting weights is out too, huh?”

Oswald glanced down at himself and then back to Jim. He had stopped eating but started again when Jim reached out to tap his tray. It took a few minutes before he found what he wanted to say, “Are you trying embarrass me?”

“A little bit.” Gordon glanced at him and gave him a friendly smile. “Mostly just bored though, there isn’t much going on. We’ll find something you can do.”

He nodded but still didn’t feel right. “What did that guard tell you?” A hard look slid over Gordon’s face and he regretted asking immediately. He intended to apologize but Gordon was already talking.

“None of your business.” There was a pause and his voice was slighty cooler, “Too bad you aren’t your old self, you might actually have been some use.”

His stomach clenched at that and he dropped his eyes to the table so the man wouldn’t see how much those words hurt. No one had wanted him when he was insane, and Dr. Strange had promised now that he was fixed that things would change, but he was still unwanted. It hadn’t changed anything except that he felt sad and alone. Had only changed that guilt tore him up inside as he wallowed in remorse. 

He tried to push forward though, looking up to meet Jim’s eyes and giving a smile though it felt more like a grimace, “Anything I can do though, I’m happy to do.”

“I’m sure you are.”

Oswald chewed his lip to keep himself from crying, pressure pushing at his eyes. To distract himself he looked around the room, his food long forgotten. Jim got his attention and pointed to his tray, “You aren’t going to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You mind?” Oswald shook his head and watched Jim pull the tray towards himself, and at least he could give the man that. He started to look around again but Jim made a disapproving sound, “You’re gonna attract attention that way. Keep your eyes on the table.”

He immediately did so, curling his hands in his lap and keeping his eyes on them. He could hear the smile in Jim’s voice, “Good boy.”

At least he could do something right. 

Out in the yard for rec time Oswald found himself sitting uncomfortably on a bench, huddled in to make himself small as he watched Jim run the same small loop over and over, glancing occasionally at him to make sure that he was still there. Still okay.

It was his own fault, he had pouted and whined at anything Jim had tried to suggest and finally Jim had just sat him on the bench and told him to stay. 

Jim had asked him a few times to make sure that he was okay and he had nodded dutifully. He didn’t like it, he felt alone and vulnerable, but he got that the other man needed to stay active, needed it to burn off his anxious energy and he hadn’t wanted to stop him. 

Jim was on his way back when an inmate moved in front of him, stopping him. He allowed himself to slow, and glanced towards Oswald to make sure no one was near him before he turned towards the inmate. “What?”

The man gave him a sleazy sort of grin that made him uncomfortable. “Just wanted to have a word about your friend there.”

“And you had it.” He went to move around him but the man stepped in front of him. He purposely moved out of his casual stance, eyes darting to Oswald again. He was where he left him, watching them, and still no one was near him so he turned his attention back. 

“You don’t have many friends in here Gordon, and your  _ friend _ over there somehow has even less. If you were to stop protecting him, that would gain you a little favor in here, ya know? And a man like you, you could use it.”

Jim only snorted at the man, shoving him out of his way. 

The man didn’t try to get back in front of him but was still talking, “We can make it worth your while, there are plenty that want a piece of him, especialy now.” There was a chuckle behind him, “Bet you could dick him down now and he’d say thank you.”

Jim turned suddenly and grabbed the man’s shirt, dragging him so they were face to face, “Anyone touches him they will have to deal with me.”

The man didn’t look put off by it, “You clearly don’t want him, Gordon. And some people in here want to see the Penguin suffer. So if not by you…” The man’s words trailed off but the message was clear. He shoved him away roughly, making him stumble.

He angrily headed back to Oswald, frustration skyrocketing when there was someone in front of the man that had dragged him to his feet, and he really didn’t need the extra stress of taking care of him. There was a moment, an incredibly brief moment, that he considered just letting them have him. As soon as he thought it he dismissed it, even before Penguin was… whatever he was now he wouldn’t have. He ran a hand over his face. Fuck.

Oswald was scrambling to get his feet under him, he couldn’t see Jim anymore around the man that had him. One hand was holding his shirt and the other had grabbed his ass. He wrapped his hands around the man’s arm trying to pull him off him.

The hand on his ass snagged his pants and they were slid down over his hip and he changed his focus, letting go of the hand on his shirt to grab that one, squealing when he was abruptly released and the sudden force of it made him stumble back and land hard enough on his back to knock the wind out of him. There was a shoving match between whoever had attacked him and Jim, and then it was just the other man standing over him. 

Flushing he tried ot fix his clothes, pulling his pants back up and straightening his shirt, pulling at it even as it was back to where it was supposed to be just to hide that he was crying. Jim didn’t say anything as he stood there, letting Oswald pull himself together. It took a few moments but he finally had himself under control and as soon as he started to get up Jim grabbed his upper arm and helped him. 

“I’m sorry, I was watching you, and I didn’t see him…”

“It’s okay, shouldn’t have left you alone.” Jim touched him briefly, hands going across his shirt, tilting his chin up, searcing for injuries. “You okay?”

“You have to ask me that a lot, huh?” He was trying to be calm, to ease Jim, trying to not be a bother but his voice shook. He still forced the smile though, “Thank you Jim.”

Gordon let out a long sigh, trying to go over his options and what exactly he wanted to say to the man, aware that too much would overwhelm him. “We might have a problem.”

“A problem?”

Oswald looked up at him, big trusting eyes, face bruised, looking every inch like someone that needed help. Needed to be protected and Jim just couldn’t put it on him. So he shook his head and forced a mostly mellow look on his face, “Yup. Seems running is out. So tell me, what can you do?”

He barely listened as Oswald offered a few timid suggestions. Oswald didn’t need to know that there were people after him, that he had enemies, Jim was sure he could take care of it. He’d explain it all to Oswald once he had the chance to think it out himself. 

He glanced around at who was watching them and moved forward to sling an arm around Oswald’s shoulder, pulling him closer. The man’s words stuttered for a moment before he continued, leaning into Jim. One thing he knew, he had to make it more obvious that he was serious when he said Oswald was  _ his _ . And he if enjoyed having the smaller man tucked against him? Well, no one had to know that but him.


	7. Chapter 7

“Gordon! You have a visitor.”

Jim looked up, glancing at Oswald sitting on his bunk reading a book, and even though the man didn’t look up he could tell he was watching him. “Okay.” He stood up and could see the way Oswald tensed. He stopped in front of him and leaned close, “Just stay in here. You’re in my cell, that should be enough to keep you safe. I’ll be back soon.” It had been more than a week and no one had bothered them, had anything to say to Oswald, and he was sure he’d made it clear that Oswald belonged to him. 

“Okay, Jim.” 

Oswald’s voice shook but there was nothing he could do about it. He dropped one hand to pat the man’s knee and then followed the guard.

Oswald kept his eyes down on the book until Jim was gone and then he swallowed hard as he looked up. What he had really wanted to do was beg the man to stay, but he couldn’t ask him to not go on his visit. He purposely didn’t look out of the cell, he didn’t want to invite trouble.

After awhile a shadow fell into the cell and he glanced up, trying to smile when it was a guard. He set the book down, and chewed his lip for a moment, waiting for what the man wanted. 

“Cobblepot. Back to your own cell.”

“Oh.” He awkwardly pushed to his feet, wrapping his hands in the bottom of his shirt. Once he was on his feet he mumbled out, “I thought maybe…” He glanced out around the man and everyone was still standing around for open cell time, “Is there something wrong?”

The guard grabbed his elbow and started to drag him out of the cell, making him stumble and barely keep his feet under him, only held up because of the grip. He tried to apologize to say that he would go, that the man didn’t need to drag him, but the man wasn’t listening to him. When they reached his cell he was shoved into it and he lost his feet, landing in a sprawl on the ground.

“You okay?”

Oswald scrambled on to his butt and pushed back away from the gate, eyes on the man standing there. It was the inmate that he had seen talking to Jim when the man had gone for a run, and even though Gordon hadn’t said much he had gotten the idea he didn’t like him, but the man was only giving him a half smile, raising an eyebrow when he still didn’t answer. “That guard was pretty rough, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Instantly he felt bad, the man truly seemed like he was being genuine. He struggled to smile but knew that it came off as a grimace, “I’m sorry, thank you for asking.”

At that the man stepped into the cell, reaching out a hand to help him up. Automatically Oswald took it, the man wasn’t doing anything. He was pulled to his feet harder than he expected, stumbling into the man, and tried to step back but an arm slid around his waist. 

“Hold on, I’m just helping ya out.” The man’s hand slid over his hip and Oswald whined. 

“Please stop.”

“Little thing like you getting shoved around by a guard like that, just worried you might be hurt. Just let me take a look at ya.”

“Please, I’m fine, really…” Behind the man there was another inmate and he whimpered, trying to pull away again.

“I don’t think he likes you Tom.”

The man holding him chuckled as he suddenly pulled away his hands, crossing them over his chest as he eyed Oswald. “Thought he was supposed to be some kind of big time gangster.”

“He used to be.” The two of them blocked the exit from his cell and he backed up to the far wall. The second man stepped forward, “You have not been an easy man to get to talk to Penguin, I don’t think Gordon has let you more than a few steps from him since we talked to him last week. Keeping you a short fucking leash, ain’t he?” Oswald could feel his face flushing at the words, he wasn’t a  _ dog _ , but the man was still talking, “Do you remember me Penguin?”

He flinched at the use of the nickname and tried to remember if he had ever seen the man but he finally sniffled and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry…”

The man chuckled and moved into the cell, sitting on Oswald’s bed like he had a right to it. “That’s a shame. This would be better if you remember that you had fucked me over. But I will have to take what I can get. My name is Derek and you had your people kill … most of mine. And my brother.”

Oswald’s eyes widened and he really tried to remember if he had ever seen the man. Or what he was talking about. Honestly though, he had done so many bad things, hurt so many people, he just couldn’t remember. He could feel tears and tried to meet the man’s eyes, hoping that he could see how sincere he was. “I am sorry. I have done a lot of bad things and hurt a lot of people. I’m trying to make up for it. Please accept my apology.”

The men laughing made him cringe, but he tried to not let it show, hoping that maybe they would understand. Everyone here had done bad things, surely they would understand. Finally Derek stopped laughing and leaned back, “You really want to make it up to me?”

Relieved that the man seemed reasonable he smiled, and nodded as he took a step forward. “Yes, what can I do?”

“You can suck my cock.”

Oswald visiby recoiled and looked at the door to his cell again, sinking back against the wall when he realized there was no way out. He swallowed hard to try to keep from crying. His voice was quiet, “Please leave my cell.”

“I thought you wanted to make it up to me.”

He straightened his shoulders and tried to steady his voice though it still shook, “Forcing someone to … do that is not right. You don’t have to do bad things.”

“I don’t have to, no. But I think I’d like to.” He pointed to the ground in front of him, “Come on, right here Penguin. This doesn’t have to get violent.”

“No.”

As soon as the word was out of his mouth Tom moved forward, catching him across the face with a right hook and after a short scuffle he found himself on his knees in front of the other man, whimpering. “Please don’t, please.”

Derek spread his legs more so they settled on either side of Oswald and he leaned forward, grabbing a fistful of his hair to tilt his head up. “You said you wanted to make it up to me. You killed my brother. Don’t you think asking for one little blowjob isn’t asking that much?”

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, he wasn’t sure what the right thing was. Something was telling him to fight, but he just couldn’t quite get it to kick in and he finally lowered his eyes. “Jim Gordon will be back soon, and he will-”

“But he ain’t here now, Penguin. Things are about to get real violent and if I’m still here when your friend gets back, maybe we will get real violent with him too. Now you can suck my cock or if you refuse I can always just fuck you. So, blow job?”

Finally he nodded, he didn’t want Jim to get hurt. He looked away as the man undid his pants and pulled them down enough to get his cock out, and Oswald pushed back the tears. This was what he had done with the Wendells and it wasn’t the worst that could happen.

Part of him expected Jim to show up just in time and save him, but he was urged forward and his mouth was on the man and Jim still wasn’t there. The man held his hair, jerking his head down hard, making him gag. He didn’t try to fight it just let the man do what he wanted. Maybe if he was good for it it would be over sooner. 

Tom was leaning against the gate, glancing out of it, “Hurry up will you, I want a shot at him too before Gordon gets back.”

“Hearing your voice isn’t helping.” 

There was a chuckle and Oswald tried to block it out, to just focus on what he was doing but he realized the other man intended to use him as well and he couldn’t stop it as he was crying, tears running down his face, making him choke and gag more.

“What a fucking mess.” The hand in his hair stopped pulling him down so far, letting him catch his breath, and it was only a few more minutes before the man was cumming. It filled his mouth, dribbling out around the man's cock as Oswald tried to breathe. Most of it ended up splattered on the ground as the man yanked him off. 

He was shoved back so he landed on his butt as the man stood, fixing his pants. He took Tom’s place against the bars but as soon as Tom wrapped a hand in his hair and dragged him back to his knees Derek was talking. “Gordon’s on his way back.”

“What?” The man looked pissed, “I didn’t get my turn.”

The man was grinning, clearly amused at his anger. “You’ll get another chance. It’s only a matter of time before Gordon gives in, the man will eventually need a favor.” Tom still hesitated, wrapping fingers harder in Oswald’s hair but Derek gave him a direct look, “We ain’t ready to fight Gordon, not right now. Let’s go.” He caught Oswald’s eyes, “You deserve worse than this Penguin, I had high hopes when Gordon found you - thought he’d give you what you deserved, but that isn’t what happened, is it?”

Tom gave him a grin, “Don’t worry Penguin, we’ll see you again real soon.” He kicked out, knocking Oswald on to his butt and then the two of them were gone. Oswald crawled over to the toilet and threw up before grabbing toilet paper to wipe at his face and then the floor, vision blurry as he cried but he just wanted all evidence of what had happened gone. Didn’t want Jim to know. The man would want to go attack the men and it would be more violence, and he had already caused enough violence in his life. 

At the sink he splashed water on his face, hoping he didn’t look like anything had happened though his lips felt swollen and sore and he still couldn’t stop the crying. He rinsed his mouth out, still in shock. It had all been so fast. Taking a second to breathe, to think, what they had been saying finally settled in. What did they mean that Jim would eventually give in? Give in to what?

He wanted to go to the bars and look for Jim but instead he found himself crawling up onto his cot. Wrapping his arms around his knees. Good things were supposed to happen to him, but everything that kept happening to him was bad.

It was a few minutes later that Jim showed up at his cell, looking flushed and worried, and his eyes narrowed when they landed on Oswald. “Why are you in here?”

He looked down at the bed and curled his sleeves around his hands. “A guard made me come back to my cell.” He didn’t want to lie so he hoped that Jim wouldn’t ask any follow up questions. 

“Why?” He only shrugged and Jim moved closer. “Oswald, look at me.” He kept his eyes trained on the bed and part of him knew it was because if he didn’t look Jim would touch him and he desperately wanted Jim near him after what happened. He was right, of course, as Jim reached down and grabbed his jaw, lifting his head up so he could see his eyes. “Oswald, what happened?”

“A guard brought me-”

“You already said that. I can tell just from the look on your face that something else happened. Was it another inmate?”

“Jim-” The fingers tightened and Oswald whimpered a little, his jaw already sore and Jim immediately loosened his grip at the sound. He swallowed hard but Jim waited and let him continue. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“ _ What happened _ ?”

He wanted to look away but the man didn’t let go. “I came back to my cell and there was an inmate here named Tom, he was the one that talked to you the other day. When you were running. And another inmate named Derek who said I…” His voice wobbled, because on top of what had happened he didn’t need to think about the bad things he had done. “He said I had his brother killed but I don’t remember him.”

“What did he do Ozzy?”

His face was red, flushed, and why did he always have to be so weak in front of Jim. He tugged at his sleeve and his voice shook, “He made me.” It was as much as he could say and Jim frown, thumb sliding up to his lip before he dropped his hand. He didn’t need the actual words, he understood.

“Both of them?”

“No, they left when they saw you coming.” He looked up to meet Jim’s eyes and forced his voice not to shake, needing the man to take him serious, “They said you’d give in eventually Jim, what does that mean?”

Jim was watching him and something like guilt crossed his face but it was quickly covered up, “Did you fight back? Did you do anything Oz?”

It wasn’t what he expected the man to say and he hunched his shoulders, looking the way they had gone, “I said no, and I tried to tell them it was wrong but-”

“Did you fight? Throw a punch?” Helpless he held out his hands, Jim knew that he didn’t believe in that anymore and the man made an annoyed sound, “Of course not. Fuck, Ozzy, you gotta help me out here.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jim let out an annoyed huff, it hadn’t been a good visit, more bad news, but he finally focused on Oswald and felt like an ass. It had worried him when he came back to no Oswald in his cell, and the moment he had seen the man he knew something bad had happened. And he was angry, mostly because he felt like it was his fault. 

“Come here.” He put a hand out and Oswald moved towards him instantly and he pulled him into a hug, wrapping one arm around him. Oswald huddled against him, clinging to his shirt, and he rubbed his face with the other hand. “Are you okay?”

His answer was a nod against his chest but he knew the man wasn’t. He knew he had to answer the man’s questions too. He could refuse, tell Oswald to be quiet and forget about it and he would, but that wasn’t really fair. “They said you had enemies, more than I did and if I’d stop protecting you it would benefit me.” Oswald had tensed in his arms and he rubbed his back to try to soothe him. “I told them to fuck off, Oswald, and nothing will change that. We will figure this out.” Except he didn’t know how to do that. The last week he’d not let Oswald out of his sight and the minute he had, someone had grabbed him. No matter how close he watched him he couldn’t make sure that he was there all the time.

“Is there anything else?”

“He said he thought you’d make me pay.” Oswald pulled back from where he was huddled against Jim, “If he is right about what I did to his family Jim, maybe I do deserve it.”

“You don’t deserve that Oz.” It was clear by the man’s face he didn’t believe him and if Jim ever saw Strange again he’d make sure the man had a very clear idea what he thought about his techniques. 

There was something in that though. If all the man really wanted was to see Oswald suffer and wasn’t particular about doing it himself, maybe they could work something out. He pulled Oswald back so he could look at his face, and it tugged at something in his chest. What he really wanted to do was kill the fucker that dared to touch him but that would only get him sent to solitary and then who would protect Oswald. But, maybe there was another way, at least temporarily, to keep the man safe. 

He reached up to cup his face and gave him what he hoped was a reassuring look. “It’s okay Ozzy, I’ll protect you.” He stroked his cheek and his voice lowered, “I’m just not sure we’re going to like how.”


	8. Chapter 8

Gordon could admit it wasn’t the most foolproof plan. Or even a good one. Mostly a desperate one that may be influenced by the fact that he kind of enjoyed touching the other man. He had laid it out for Oswald, and the man had watched him talk and nodded his agreement, and Jim didn’t expect anything less than that, not with how compliant he was these days. Oswald hadn’t been able to hide his worry though, face flushed with embarrassment, but it wasn’t like he was currently coming up with a better plan so Jim ignored that the man obviously wasn’t entirely on board with it. 

Which was fair that he was worried, the plan was a bit harder on Oswald than it was on him. He didn’t think he mistaked the flash of something on the man’s face though, some kind of interest.

Jim was chagrined to realize that some of the plan, that he would intentionally handle Oswald rougher, wasn’t all that different from the way he already handled the man. He already dragged him where he needed him to go, shoved him into the cell, pressed him down to wherever he needed him to sit. Not that much changed with that.

Currently he had a hand twisted in the back of Oswald’s uniform, something he knew the man really did not like, and pointed at his tray. “Carry both of them.”

There was a small nod from Oswald, his face tilted down, body hunched in on itself. Jim let go of his uniform to slide his hand up to the back of the man’s neck, digging in his fingers just short of too rough. It had the effect he wanted though as Oswald pressed into the touch.

He didn’t think that whatever had happened to him with Strange was the reason the man was so touched starved. He was pretty sure that had always been Oswald, and it made him really think how much of the gentle man under his hand was the actual man, or what he could have been if things had been different. It made him even more protective and his thumb stroked along the man’s hairline.

At the table he resisted the urge to help the man set the trays down, watching him bumble them and almost knock them over, but they were playing roles here. So instead he snapped, “Hurry it the fuck up.”

“Sorry.” The whimper in the words made him think that Oswald still didn’t quite get what was supposed to be for show and what was real, but they would talk it out in the cell. Again. 

As it was he lowered his voice, “Oz.”

“I know.” Oswald’s voice was just as low as he settled onto the bench, Jim sitting next to him . Close enough to touch, one arm coming up around the man’s shoulders as he scanned the room, staring down anyone that looked his way, staking his claim in one of the most obvious animal way possible. Well, almost the most obvious. 

It wouldn’t be enough, though. He knew to get them to back off, to show that he was really claiming the man he was going to have to appeal that they wanted Oswald to suffer. Was going to have to prove that they had a sexual relationship and he had explained it all to Oz how they would mostly fake it and the only reason they hadn’t yet was because of how badly it upset the other man.

Across the room Derek and Tom were watching them and he sighed as he leaned in close to the other man, “Today Ozzy, okay? I’m not going to hurt you and you’re not going to actually do anything, but it needs to be done today.”

“Jim…”

“I’m sorry Oz, I’m not asking. This is how we keep us both safe.” Oz darted a glance at him and he sighed, tightening the arm around him, “Don’t look at me like that. We talked about it, I’m not going to do anything to you. No reason to be afraid. It’s me, Oz.”

“I know.” HIs voice was small and Oswald looked up to meet his eyes and his face was too open and trusting for a place like this. “I trust you.”

“Then what is the problem?”

Oswald’s face flushed and he looked back down at the table before he shrugged his shoulders and Jim wanted to push it but what they could get away with saying in the cafeteria was slim and he let it go for now.

Oswald waited until Jim started to eat before he glanced at him, looking back down at his own tray quickly. He knew his face was flushed, he couldn’t seem to help that, just like he couldn’t seem to help his reaction to Jim touching him. 

The man’s hands had been on him non stop since that day and the crush that he  _ definitely did not have  _ couldn’t stop pointing out how much he liked the man’s hands on him. He frowned down at his tray, that wasn’t a nice way to think about his friend. Because Jim was his friend and if he had other thoughts he should be able to just keep them to himself. It wasn’t like Jim had thoughts about him that way, as far as the man was concerned he was just something helpless that needed to be protected.

He did lift his eyes to look across the room at Derek, and he had to admit he wasn’t sure Jim’s plan would be enough. He was willing enough to go along with it though, even if it meant the man was rough with him, it let him be close to him. 

Embarrassed Oswald poked at his food. What he had done with those other men was about as much as he’d ever done with anyone when it came to being physical, and he had never really missed out on having someone touch him like that, but he couldn’t quite control his reaction when Jim touched him. Couldn’t help lean into him when Jim absently had an arm around his shoulder, or pressed into his space. 

He wasn’t worried that Jim would hurt him, he was embarrassed by what he wanted to do. He stole another glance at Jim, and pictured him touching himself, a part of his plan, and there was a sharp jolt of arousal, and he was honestly pretty unfamiliar with feeling it. He shifted on the bench, pressing his thighs together, hoping that Jim wouldn’t notice him squirming. The man had said today they were doing it, and Oswald couldn’t shake feeling bad that instead of dreading it, he was kind of excited. The arm dropped from around his shoulders to his thigh, giving it a squeeze, “You okay?”

Under Jim’s hand his thigh tensed, and he had to smother the sound that tried to make it out. He nodded without looking at Jim, aware that he couldn’t hide his thoughts from showing on his face, not anymore. He missed having that particular talent. Though, not like he’d ever been particularly good at it. 

Gordon went back to eating but the hand stayed on his thigh and Oswald tried to ignore it, poking at his food. Why was prison food so bad.

“Quit being so prissy and eat your food.”

“I’m not prissy. This food is terrible.” Next to him Jim chuckled and he huffed as he grudgingly ate it. 

After breakfast they headed to the yard and instead of heading towards the weights Jim snagged Oswald by the back of his shirt and pushed him towards an empty table. When they reached it Jim sat down and Oswald tried to sit next to him and was left awkwardly scrambling when Jim pulled him to sit on his lap instead. 

He made a surprised sound, squirming, even as Jim wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him still. 

“Relax Ozzy, I told you. Build up. I want you to get used to me touching you.”

He had told him, he just hadn’t expected that it meant sitting on the man’s  _ lap _ . It was embarrassing and uncomfortable but he understood that was the point. 

“Shit, you are tiny Oswald. Not sure I ever noticed how small you were with all those fancy suits you wore.”

“That’s why I wore them.” The words came out automatically, and he ducked his head, “The old me.”

“Were you bullied when you were a kid Oz?” Oswald turned his head to look at him and the man had the decency to look chagrined and he was relieved when Jim put his hand up to stop him from answering, “Nevermind. I’m sure I know the answer to that.”

Still he tugged his sleeves down over his hands and wished that Jim hadn’t asked this  _ now.  _ He actually wished Jim had never brought it up at all, again he felt like he always was at his worst when the man saw him, but with what was happening right now he really didn’t need the reminder of how he had grown up. Of how even when he was his old self he still was pushed around and inexplicably he felt like he was going to cry. Even though the man had said he didn’t have to answer he found himself nodding and he wondered if this was supposed to be part of the plan.

“Sorry Ozzy, I didn’t mean to bring up bad stuff. Was just trying to, you know. Get to know you a little bit.”

Jim sounded uncomfortable and awkward, but genuine, and Oswald wiped at his face with his sleeve. “I bet you were very popular.” The man shifted behind him but he kept talking, “You’re smart and dependable and strong. You make everyone feel safe.” He could feel the blush on his face getting worse but he muttered out, “You make me feel safe.”

“Yea, I’ve been doing a great job of it.”

It was impossible to not hear the sarcasm in his voice, and more than that the self recrimination, and he wished he could say something to make the man feel better. So he said what he didn’t want to acknowledge, “Without you I’d probably be dead by now, or at least wish I was. You saved me.”

Jim’s arm tightened around him, “See if you still feel that way after what happens today.” Oswald relaxed against him, despite how uncomfortable he was with the situation, and Jim thought holding the man maybe felt a little too right.

Oswald would tell Jim that nothing he could do would change how he felt about him, but the man wouldn’t believe him. And it was a little scary that it was true. He’d had feelings for Jim since he dragged him down the pier, and wasn’t that kind of pathetic. He curled in tighter against him, and he just wished he was able to really be this close to him, and not just as a ruse. 

When they headed back to their cells Gordon gripped the collar of Oswald’s shirt, leading him by it, and Jim’s mouth curled as he thought for a moment what the man would look like with a collar on. Black and leather and he cleared his throat just to distract himself from that image.

They reached his cell and there was no coming back now as he shoved Oswald roughly, raising his voice up louder than he usually would talk, “I’m sick of waiting, bitch.”

Oswald stumbled, turning to look at Jim, his face nervous and shy. “Jim-”

He wasn’t sure if Oswald was a good actor, or if he was really scared, and unfortunately he knew it was probably the latter. He stalked towards him and grabbed him by his uniform, pausing to make sure that they had made enough noise that inmates were watching, and shoved him back to the wall. He hit it harder than he meant to shove him, Oswald letting out of a huff as the wind was knocked out of him. 

Jim growled and spun the man, pressing him face first against the wall and plastering himself to his back. Another glance out to make sure there weren’t guards and he slipped an arm around Oswald and under his uniform shirt, splaying his hand across his stomach. They both made a sound, and even if neither of them would admit it they both knew this was more than acting. Had been skirting around each other since they had met, a low thrum of what could only be called sexual tension between them, and after the close contact they’d had in the prison it was bound to happen.

Oswald was still trying to catch his breath and he whimpered at the skin on skin contact. They were pressed close enough together that he could feel Jim against him, and this may be an act but Oswald moaned at how good it felt to have someone touch him like that. Jim ground against him, and it wasn’t entirely intentional, and Oswald gasped, scrambling to grab the arm Jim had around him.

He barely had a grip on it when Jim moved them, turning so his own back was to the wall and spun Oswald so they were pressed chest to chest. Their faces were inches apart and Oswald had wanted the man for so long, had wanted  _ this _ that he couldn’t help it as he went onto his tiptoes to kiss him.

It was unexpected but Jim immediately wrapped his arm around him, pulling him as close as they could, his other hand going up to cup the side of Oswald’s jaw, tilting his head so he could deepen the kiss. He tried to pull himself away, tried to remember that this wasn’t part of the plan and that Oswald didn’t really know what he was doing but he couldn’t bring himself too. Under his hands Oswald was compliant and warm, and when Jim licked into his mouth he opened obediently. Jim tightened his hand on his jaw, mapping out Oswald’s mouth, and he would admit to himself he was taking advantage of this while he could.

They pulled back from the kiss, both wide eyed and breathless and Jim shifted his weight, his thigh sliding between Oswald’s legs and abruptly he realized the man was hard against his leg. As soon as his thigh pressed against him Oswald’s his hips jerked, grinding against his thigh as the man made a small sound. 

“Ozzy?”

Oswald looked up at him but he looked dazed, grabbing on to Jim’s shirt as he rutted against his leg, and Jim didn’t have to wonder if the man had ever been aroused with someone before, had ever had anyone touch him in that way, because it was written all over the man’s face. “Hey,” he tried to get his attention as Oswald rubbed against him, fingers twisting in Jim’s uniform as he whined and moaned.

And that was getting attention, and he felt bad, even though it would only help their case. He did finally push the man back, his own cock twitching at the needy whine from the man, but he met his eyes and gave his shoulders a hard push down. Truth be told he was sure the man would cum from rutting against his leg and it felt wrong to let the man do it with so many people watching, especially since he was certain Oz had never cum with another person before.

The haze cleared a little and Oswald slid down to his knees and Jim took a moment to look at him, those pretty eyes looking up at him, face red and flushed, Oswald’s own cock hard and straining against his prison issue pants. That shouldn’t be so appealing.

Oswald dropped his hand to his lap, palming his own cock through his pants, and he hadn’t been prepared to be so overwhelmed with the sensations. He hadn’t been able to control himself, and with a little distance he was trying to focus on what they were supposed to be doing, face already flushed with arousal but humiliation was starting to trickle in. 

It was pushed to the way side when Jim was undoing his pants though, pulling himself out, and the plan was Jim would jerk off near him, but Oswald rocked forward on his knees, wrapping a hand around him and leaning forward to take him in his mouth. There was a surprised sound above him, a moan as a hand wrapped in his hair, and the doubts he had about what he was doing fell away. As soon as Jim had told him what he was going to do he had thought about it. He had wanted to make Jim feel good, repay him for the way that he had been taking care of him, and this seemed a way to do it. 

The other men that had him do this seemed to enjoy it, and though he knew it shouldn’t be what he used to justify what he was doing he couldn’t help it. It was his only real context of sex with another man. With anyone. This was nothing like the men that had forced him though. 

Jim’s fingers wrapped in his hair but didn’t force his head, and he glanced up at Jim and his own cock throbbed in response to the look on the man’s face. Clearly surprised, maybe even a little unsure, but the arousal on his face was unmistakable. Oswald half expected Jim to stop him, to at least ask him what he was doing, but he didn’t. 

He didn’t really have any skills, any finesse, but he bobbed his his and touched him with his hand, hoping that Jim would help him if he was doing something wrong. Slowly the hand in his hair tightened just short of hurting, and his head was directed a little more. Speeding up his movements but the man never pulled him down far enough to make him gag, let him keep the thrusts shallow, the head of Jim’s cock dragging across his tongue.

On a whim he tried to lick at the head, a not unpleasant saltiness, and he moaned around Jim at being allowed such an intimate thing with him. Though it felt  _ dirty _ he dropped his free hand back to himself, palming over his pants. He had masturbated a few times in his life, it had just never held that much appeal to him, but now he desperately wanted to shove his hand down his pants and touch himself.

He was distracted as Jim’s thursts started to get deeper, harder, just short of making him gag and he raised his free hand to Jim’s thigh, not really trying to stop him so much as to keep his balance, but at the touch Jim slowed, muttering out something that sounded like an apology. Louder he added, “Gonna cum, Ozzy.”

The hand in his hair eased but he didn’t back off, eyes trained on Jim’s face, watching the man pant, watching the arousal on his face caused by him and he didn’t want to miss any of it. He still wasn’t really ready for it when Jim came, cum filling his mouth and he tried to swallow around him, holding still when the fingers in his hair tightened for a moment, licking at him until Jim grunted and pulled away. He wiped his sleeve over his face, reaching down to touch himself again, feeling like he could cum just from watching Jim. 

The man was tucking himself away and he barely had his pants done up when he grabbed Oswald and dragged him to his feet. Oswald squirmed next to him, trying to find the position he had earlier, shame thrown to wind as he thought about rubbing against the other man. Jim had a hand on either side of his face, trying to get his attention, and it seemed selfish but he didn’t care what he wanted from him right now, he just wanted to cum. 

Jim couldn’t help making a fond sound, trying to get Oswald to look at him, but the man was single mindedly thrusting against his thigh, desperate whines making it out of his throat, and it was probably the most  _ undignified _ he had ever seen Oswald. And it was almost a relief to see. Something other than the quiet mousy brain washed man that had been at his side since he walked into Blackgate. He kind of liked it. 

“Alright.” He had planned on convincing him that he dind’t want to cum like this, that later when they weren’t being watched as closely he could help the man out, but it was clear there was no reasoning with him. And he would like to at least reach down the man’s pants and jerk him off but if he was supposed to be his bitch, it’s just not what he would do. Probably not the kissing part either but what was done was done. 

Oswald’s thrusts were fast, erratic, and Jim slipped his hands around so he could cup his ass, forcing a steadier rhythm, helping him thrust harder. When he let go of Oswald’s face the man dropped his head to Jim’s chest, panting against him with the occasional please. He smiled as he leaned closer to him, “That’s it Ozzy, good boy.” Holding him like he was he could feel his cock twitch, the way his hips jerked, and yea he had always thought that about the man. 

He could tell the man was close, just needed something a little more, and with a glance out of the cell and a mental shrug lowered his mouth to the man’s throat. At least marking him would make sense as a big fuck off sign to anyone else that might touch him. 

He pressed his lips lightly at first and then bit the spot suddenly, licking at it almost immediately. Oswald yowled and Jim snorted, one of his hands grabbing the back of the man’s head and holding it tighter against his chest to smother his sounds before a guard came to investigate. His other hand nudged Oswald’s hips as the man shuddered in his arms, sliding up to his lower back to hold him tight once he stopped cumming and held still.

It wasn’t a terrible moment considering the circumstances and he definitely felt bad at what he was about to do. “I’m sorry for this Ozzy, but I can’t be soft.”

Oswald barely had time to pull away and look up at him before he shoved him back, motioning a hand at his front, at the very obvious wet spot where he had cum in his pants. “Glad you know your place, real men get their dick sucked, not cum in their pants like a bitch in heat.” He cringed inwardly at the words, they sounded so fake and out of place. The laughter from outside the cell said they worked though and he didn’t let it show how much it bothered him when Oswald’s face fell. 

The man’s hands dropped to cover the front of his pants, face red and sniffling, and he was sure the man was going to cry. It had gone a bit sideways, they weren’t supposed to have actually  _ done _ anything, but he had underestimated what it would feel like to touch Oswald. To have the man in his arms. 

He tilted his head towards his cot and Oswald obediently moved to it, curling up in the corner, tucking his head into his knees, and sounds of him trying to stifle his tears filled the cell. “Quit your crying, I didn’t even hurt you.”

A small ‘sorry’ came from the corner and Jim set his face. He moved to the bars and glanced around, glaring down anyone that looked at Oswald, making it obvious that the man belonged to him and only him. He caught Derek’s eyes across the room and his lip curled, standing up straighter, not satisfied until the man looked away but it didn’t feel like the end of it. 

He moved back into the cell until he stood in front of the cot and nudged it with his foot, voice low, “You okay, Ozzy?”  
The man nodded but when Jim sat on the edge of the cot he flinched and Jim sighed. He would talk to Oz when the man had calmed down a little, make sure that he hadn’t caused any kind of permanent damage, sure that once the humiliation wore off Oswald would be okay. He knew that they had crossed a line, he just wasn’t sure what to do about it, but he had always been pretty good at denial so that seemed like a good choice.

He really needed to get them out of here.


	9. Chapter 9

Oswald stayed curled up on the cot until lunch time. Jim hadn’t been entirely sure what he was going to do, but when the buzzer sounded Oswald uncurled and moved to his side, eyes down, arms curled around himself.

Jim caught his arm before they left the cell, blocking the view of him with his body, “Ozzy, you doing okay?” He nodded but wouldn’t look up. 

It made Jim frown and he grabbed the back of Oswald’s shirt, pulling him along his side, though he was careful to be gentle. And at least Oswald leaned into him, didn’t seem to be nervous around him. 

They were in line to get their food when there was a wolf whistle, an inmate leering at Oswald and Jim pulled him closer, snarling at the man until he backed off. He huffed out his annoyance, pushing Oswald in front of him, “Have you always been this much of a magnet for assholes?”

“I’m sorry Jim.”

“Yea, I know. Not your fault Ozzy, not your fault.” Jim grabbed his tray and used his hip to nudge Oswald to get him moving, “Come on.”

Oswald held his tray low, moving slow, and Jim tilted his head as he tried to figure out what was wrong with him. He was sure that he hadn’t hurt him. When he did realize what was wrong he felt stupid, realized the man was still wearing the same clothes, probably still showed evidence of him cumming in his pants. At the very least it had to be uncomfortable, and he hadn’t even given it a thought. He hadn’t even given him the opportunity to get cleaned up. He was really shit at this taking care of someone thing. 

His mouth twisted as he sat next to Oswald, and he reached down to pat his leg. Without giving it too much thought he moved his fruit to Oswald’s plate, taking what he knew he wouldn’t eat. The man should probably eat more, he had always been small but since whatever had happened to him he had obviously lost more weight, though Jim didn’t mind getting the extra food.

Oswald barely acknowledged as Jim switched around their food, hands in his lap, and finally Jim sighed. “It’s not that big of a deal, Ozzy. Quit being so dramatic.” He threw his fork down in a moment of frustration, “Yea, I know, you’re sorry.”

He expected him to say nothing, or apologize, or simper. Oswald only lifted one hand to pick up his fork, poke at his food, and mumbled, “It’s a big deal to me.”

Guilt made Jim snap out, “No one told you to blow me, that’s on you.” Oswald’s eyes darted up to his for a moment, face red, before they settled back on his lap. Feeling even worse Jim couldn’t seem to stop his mouth, “You seemed to like it just fine though.”

Oswald looked up again, longer, meeting his eyes and there was a flash of anger on his face, the old Oswald, before it was gone. Leaving him with just those big scared eyes on him but it wasn’t lost on him what had happened. Didn’t stop him from thinking that if Oswald was angry enough about something it might snap him out of it. 

“Oswald.” He thought about what he wanted to say, “That made you angry?”

“N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Oswald twitched at being caught like that and didn’t say anything for long moments before he spoke, flinching like he expected something bad to happen, “I wanted to… do that. You don’t have to be mean about it.”

Jim would have to think about it, to plan, because if he was right it might work but it would take something more than he was willing to do. So for now he softened his voice, leaning in close to him, wanting to soothe the hurt he saw. “I liked it too.”

He was rewarded with a shy smile from Oswald and more of a blush that made him smile back. Because even if he was a handful to keep an eye on, couldn’t do much to help him, Jim liked Oswald like this and it wasn’t lost on him that if he brought back who the man used to be there was a fair chance that they would go back to being adversaries. 

And the thought of an Oswald that he couldn’t touch as he liked, couldn’t spend time with, bothered him more than he was willing to admit. 

For his part Oswald wasn’t entirely sure how he felt, what he felt. He was embarrassed, not to mention uncomfortable, as he shifted his weight. There was still a vague wet sticky feeling and it made his face flush even though they were back in Jim’s cell, and the man wasn’t even paying attention to him.

He raised his eyes to look Jim over, trying to get a handle on what the man wanted from him. Since lunch Jim had been acting different, looked distracted. He was sure it had something to do with that bit of anger, that jolt that he hadn't been able to control, and he chewed his lip anxiously as he tried to decide what it meant. 

It wasn’t like he had been able to control it and as soon as he had felt it, it had melted away. He couldn't have held on even if he wanted to, and he hadn’t. Or at least, he didn’t think he hadn’t wanted to. Hard to deny that it had felt good, and that alone was enough to make him shrink back from it.

He couldn’t keep his mouth closed any longer, worried that Jim was considering not protecting him anymore, worried that if Jim thought he might be his old self he would make him go away. “Jim?”

It wasn’t loud enough to get the man’s attention from where he leaned against the bars, looking out, and Oswald winced, pushing to his feet and moving closer, “Jim?”

That did get his attention and Jim turned to face him, leaning back against the bars, and Oswald couldn’t help noticing how attractive the man was, especially like this, he looked especially big and strong when he was protecting him. He watched his own foot scuff at the ground, the silence pressing down as he remembered he was the one that had started the conversation. He looked back up to see Jim raising an eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat and forced the words out, “Are you mad at me?” Watching him so intently he could see the confusion on the man’s face and he hurried to add, “For getting angry at lunch. I didn’t mean to, Jim. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh.” Jim shook his head as he looked out the bars and then pushed off them, pushing Oswald back when he reached him until he stumbled and fell back on the bed and there was a flash of a grin on Jim’s face at that before he was back to his serious face. Another glance out the bars and he sat next to Oswald, half turning so he blocked him from anyone watching. “No, but I did want to talk about that.”

A hand landed on his knee, Jim’s fingers just barely digging in, and he was worried about what the man was going to say. Jim looked to be trying to get what he wanted to say together and Oswald used the time to mutter out, “Please don’t send me away.”

“I’m not Ozzy, as long as you need me, I’ll be here.” Oswald tilted his head, wondering about the wording, but then Jim was talking. “When I said that there was, you know, a flash on your face. Like your old self. Is that how it felt?”

He gave a non commital shrug even as his body shuddered at the thought. Even as he twitched at the phantom pain of the shocks, and he felt like he was letting Jim down, the man was too observant to miss the signs. He could see Jim mentally put the brakes on what he wanted to talk about and he just patted his knee, “Nevermind, don’t worry about it Ozzy.”

“It did.” He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to feel how he used to be, but he wanted Jim’s approval. Wanted to make him happy and he clearly wanted to discuss this. “I was… angry. I’m sorry, I thought I didn’t feel that anymore. I don’t know why I did.”

“Because it’s normal to be angry, Oswald.”

“Professor Strange said that good people don’t get angry.”

“Oswald how-” Jim huffed out an annoyed sigh but took a moment to calm himself before he met Oswald’s eyes. “Am I good person?”

“Of course.” He felt scandalized that he would even ask.

“Do I get angry?”

There was silence between them, Jim grabbing Oswald’s jaw to keep his head up when he tried to break the eye contact. Finally he let out a little whine, his head starting to hurt as he nodded. That was right, Jim got angry. A lot. But he was a good person, and for a moment Oswald was confused as it didn’t add up in his head. Without realizing it his breathing sped up, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. 

“Hey, Ozzy.” Jim’s hands slid from holding his jaw to cupping his face, alarmed. “Hey, come on. I need you to calm down.” When that didn’t work Jim moved so he knelt on the ground in front of him, staying close. “In and out Ozzy, breathe for me.”

It didn’t appear to be working as Oswald pulled himself away from Jim, trying to get to his feet, not sure why he was panicking and unable to stop it. Jim grabbed him and yanked him harder, pulling him back on to the cot, grabbing his wrists to keep him there. “You’re going to attract the guards, Oswald, I need you to calm down  _ right now _ .”

Jim was on the verge of slapping him to get him to snap out of it but the harsh tone of the words finally got through and Oswald focused on him. Still sniffling, still whimpering, but he was starting to breathe. “I’m not… I can’t…”

Jim moved so he was sitting on the cot, pulling Oswald into his lap, wrapping his arms tight around him, making small shushing sounds. “Just calm down for a minute before we talk.”

It took awhile but Jim patiently waited until he couldn’t feel Oswald’s heart racing, until his anxious panting stopped. Even then he held him for a few more minutes, one hand stroking along his back, comforting him. 

Oswald moved, snuggling closer to Jim, and it felt good to have the man in his lap. The small movement of him wiggling making Jim suddenly very aware of how good it felt and his arms tightened around him, only realizing what he was doing when the man’s weight settled over him and he had to resist the urge to grind up against him. 

He practically dumped him on to the cot, guilt making him scramble to his feet. “Feeling better?”

It took Oswald a moment to get his bearings, unsure what he had done wrong, but he gave Jim a hesitant nod, nervous Jim would bring the conversation back to Strange. He didn’t think he could handle it, but Jim was barely even looking at him. He had ended up disappointing him anyways. 

He didn’t know what to say and carefully got to his feet, taking a step towards Jim, but was brought up short when a guard slammed a baton into the bars of the cell. 

Though he froze, flinching, Jim moved immediately so he stood in between him and the guard. Not that there was much he could do if the guard started something, but Oswald appreciated it all the same.

The guard only gave him a bored look and pointed at Oswald, “You’re being moved to a double cell, come get your stuff so we can get you moved.”

“What?”

Oswald didn’t understand what was being said and looked to Jim, and the look on his face made his stomach drop. He looked back towards the guard, “Double?”

“Not everyone is important enough to get their own place Cobblepot. Move it so I can get this shit taken care of before dinner.” The guard pressed his baton to the middle of Jim’s chest and gave him a shove, “Back off Gordon, or don't. I have no problem making you.”

“It’s okay Jim.” He tried to appease them both, he didn’t want Jim to get hurt, and moved forward quickly until he was standing in front of the guard. He gave him a friendly grin, tinged with desperation, “Okay.”

The guard grabbed him and gave him a shove out of the cell, and he was vaguely aware of Jim following them as they moved to the cell he was previously in. He glanced around, could see that the middle row of smaller cingular cells where him and Jim were, and along the edges were bigger cells with two beds, and at least he was still in the same room as Jim. 

He gathered up his things quickly, keeping his eyes down as he followed the guard across the room. Maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe being moved wasn’t a bad thing. The thought of being locked in with someone during the night wasn’t terrible, if they were someone that was nice it would be good to not be alone. There had to be other nice people in the prison, he couldn’t be the only one.

“Oz.”

The warning in Jim’s tone made his head snap up, looking at Jim who was behind them, held up by another guard. Jim was looking past him in the cell and his eyes followed, and could see his cellmate already in there. Leaning against the bars and grinning at him. The grin moved past him, a triumphant smirk sent to Jim before his attention turned back to Oswald. 

Derek stood up straight once Oswald reached the cell, and there was nothing nice about the way he looked at him. “Welcome home, Penguin.”


	10. Chapter 10

Oswald slid past the man to set his stuff on the bottom bunk, eyes wide as he watched him, darting out to Jim who was still being held back by a guard. 

Derek was still watching Jim as well but he finally turned, blocking the exit as he eyed Oswald. He dropped his eyes to the ground, wrapping his arms around himself, swallowing hard. 

Derek moved towards him slowly, less caution in his movements than the first time they had interacted. Back when he hadn’t been sure if the Penguin was still dangerous or not, if it was an act. Now that he knew it wasn’t it was a whole different ball game.

He stopped when he was directly in front of him but didn’t touch, just standing there until Oswald nervously raised his eyes up to him. He could hear Jim’s voice outside the cell and he tried to move around the man. “I’d like to leave please.”

A hand shot out to stop him, grabbing the front of Oswald’s shirt, holding him still when he flinched away. The man only watched him though, leer on his face before he let go, smoothing out the material. “Sure. We got all night to chat.”

Oswald darted past him as soon as there was enough room, heading straight for Jim, chest tight like he couldn’t breathe. Jim stopped resisting against the guard once he saw Oswald, settling for a glare that faded away once Oswald reached him. He reached out to grab Oswald’s upper arm, pulling him away, shaking his head when he tried to talk. 

He pulled him until they were back in the relative privacy of his cell and Oswald let out a nervous puff of air, “Jim?”

Jim was shaking his head though, frustrated this time instead of telling him to be quiet as he glanced back at Derek. “I don’t know Oswald. I can talk to the guard I know, maybe get ahold of Harvey and see if there is something he can do but that will take time.” He turned to look at Oswald, jaw clenching at the fear he saw there, knowing there wasn’t anything he could do about it. 

An idea occurred to him, but it was a stretch, “Do you think you could get in a fight?”

“What?”

“A fight?” He nodded along as he spoke, willing Oswald to follow, “If you could get in a fight with someone you would be put in solitary for a bit, give me time to figure something out.”

“I can’t start a fight, Jim.” Oswald chewed on his lip as Jim threw his hands out in a helpless motion and he really tried to think about it. “Maybe with you? We could pretend-”

“Then I would get thrown in the solitary too and wouldn’t be able to work anything out.” Jim glanced the way they had come from, “It’s that or staying in a cell with him Ozzy.”

He already knew what Jim was going to say but he still muttered, “Fighting is bad.”

“So is getting raped.” Again the bluntness from Jim made him twitch, made him flush. 

“Jim.”

“I know Oz.” Jim lifted his hand to touch the bite mark on the man’s neck, for all the good it had done. Frustrated he waved a hand in the general direction of the cot, “I guess what we did was pointless, it didn’t help at all.”

Jim missed Oswald’s eyes darting away, the hurt on his face, but he could feel him tense. He turned his attention to him and muttered, “You know what I meant Oswald.” He gave him a gentle push aside so he could move to the edge of the cell and look around. Trying to decide who would be the safest person to have Oswald fight. Though he would have to make sure it was enough of a fight that they didn’t just break it up and warn them and he wasn’t convinced Oswald could do that. He could have him try to hit a guard but he really didn’t need the guards after Oswald. Maybe he could-

“Jim.”

The hesitant voice broke into his thinking and he grudgingly turned his attention to Oswald. “What?”

“I can’t fight someone, Jim.” He clenched his jaw, and met Jim’s eyes, “I won’t fight someone, Jim. Violence isn’t the answer. There have to be other options.”

He stared at him and couldn’t stop the sarcasm, “Sure. You can probably just discuss it with him. Like the last time he talked with you. Did you get much talking in then, Ozzy?” It wasn’t enough for him as the other man looked away, “What is your plan then?”

“I don’t know.” He crossed his arms over his chest, wasn’t quite angry, but was frustrated. He thought about what could happen, what probably would happen if he stayed in the cell with the other man, and he didn’t know what to do. Jim was still glaring at him so he tried to think of what Professor Strange would suggest to him. He would probably tell him to use his words. Even though the thought terrified him he glanced out of the cell, “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“What? No.” Jim grabbed his wrist, stopping him from going anywhere. “Don’t be stupid Oswald.”

He tugged on his wrist and met Jim’s eyes, “I’m not stupid.” Since he had gotten out of Arkham everyone had treated him like he was dumb, but he wasn’t, he was just…  _ nice _ . It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what was going on around him, he was just trying to be better than he used to be.

“I don’t think you are Oswald.”

“I want to go talk to him. He said I hurt him, before, I don’t want to hurt more people.”

They were in a stand off, Oswald tenatively trying to hold his gaze and finally Jim grunted and waved his hand in the general direction of Derek’s cell, an exasperated look on his face. “Fine, go. It won’t do any good, but I‘m not going to stop you.”

“Okay.” Jim’s hand dropped away and he looked at where he had touched him and already missed it. He had spoken big words but the thought of going and actually trying to talk to Derek made his heart race, made him break out in a cold sweat. 

Jim was eyeing him, and tilted his head towards Derek. “Go on Oswald, if you want to try. I’ll keep an eye on you, if you need help.”

With that little bit of reassurance he bit his lip and nodded, body moving with only a little hesitation, glancing back twice to see if Jim was still watching him. He was, leaning against the bars with a scowl on his face.

When he got close enough that Derek noticed him, the man scrambled to his feet, Tom on the other side of him, and his glance passed Oswald probably expecting Jim. When he realized he was alone a slow grin slid over his face. “Miss me, did ya?”

Oswald stopped a few feet from the cell, and glanced at Tom before back to Derek. “I understand you are upset. I hoped… I hoped we could talk.”

Tom was laughing and Derek glanced at him with a bigger grin on his face before he looked to Oswald, “I’ll bite. What did you want to talk about?” Though the man glanced at the distance between them and motioned to the bottom bunk, “Don’t you think you should come a bit closer if you want to talk? It is your bunk.”

“Sure.” It wasn’t like he thought standing a few feet from the cell would keep him any safer than being in it. Though he could practically feel Jim’s disapproval as he moved forward, passed the other two men, and sat on his bunk. Derek stayed standing but Tom dropped down on it next to him, a touch closer than comfortable. And even though he hadn’t planned on it the proximity, feeling trapped, had him stammer out, “J-Jim is watching.”

Derek nodded like he already knew that, “He’ll be watching tonight too, doesn’t help you much, does it?”

It was starting to sink in that he was trying to be reasonable with someone that was not, but desperation had him pushing forward. “I understand that you are angry about what happened, and I really am sorry.” He tried to remember what Strange had said to him when he first got to Arkham, when he was still so angry, but the words wouldn’t come.

“You already said that last time. I don’t accept your apology Penguin. How can you apologize for killing my brother? Will that bring him back?”

“No.” He shook his head and looked down at the ground, and said it again his voice defeated. “No, it won’t.” And maybe Strange was wrong, maybe it was impossible for him to fix the things he had done wrong. Did he think bringing Butch cupcakes, did he think apologizing made up for all the people he hurt? In Arkham, in therapy, it had seemed to make sense. Had seemed possible but faced with the actual people that he had hurt it was different. 

He lifted his eyes to look at Derek, not entirely sure when he had dropped them to the ground. The man wasn’t smiling anymore and Oswald wasn’t sure how to read the look on his face. They looked at each other for long moments before Derek spoke. “You really mean that, don’t you? It isn’t bullshit. You’re actually sorry.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything as he looked down at the ground. He wouldn’t believe him anyways. He forced himself to respond, “I wish I could do something to make it up to you.”

Tom’s voice was loud and abrasive in the silence that followed it, “Oh, you will, right Derek? Just wait until tonight bitch.”

Derek’s voice wasn’t gleeful anymore, it sounded forced and flat. “It doesn’t matter Cobblepot, it’s too late for apologies.”

Oswald’s shoulders sagged and he awkwardly moved to his feet, darting eyes up to Derek’s face once before he headed back to Jim. Head down, hypothetical tail tucked, and he must have looked distressed enough that Jim didn’t even bother with an ‘I told you so’.

Oswald made it nearly to Jim’s cot before he glanced at him, “Is it okay if I sit here?”

“You know it is Ozzy.” 

He curled up on the cot and Jim scrubbed a hand over his face. It had been a long fucking day. What they had done earlier seemed like a lifetime ago and he moved into the cell to settle next to Oz on the cot, and hesitantly slid an arm around the man’s shoulders, not sure if it would be well received or not.

Instantly the smaller man curled up against him, burying his face in his shoulder, and it tugged at something in Jim’s chest. He hated that he was so helpless to take care of someone that he cared about.

Things were silent for a few minutes and Oswald wished he could stay hidden against the man forever like this, but he had thought of something and even though it scared him it was an idea. He pulled away slightly, “Jim, what if… I thought maybe I could try to get them to let me talk to Professor Strange. Maybe he could help.”

The arm around him tightened painfully, though he only whimpered softly, not trying to fight it. Jim’s voice was angry, spilling out as a growl. “No. He’s the one that did this to you, why would you want anything to do with him?”

“He might be able to help Jim. Maybe he could transfer me back to Arkham-”

“Away from where I can protect you?”

And it was a good idea, better than the one that Jim had come up with, and he pulled away, not able to snap at the man but did whisper. “You can’t protect me.” He flinched and waited for the return anger. He knew it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t Jim’s job to protect him, he used to be able to protect himself. What had happened to him?

It wasn’t the response he got though, just Jim tugging him closer again, holding him. He sighed, “You’re right. If you think he could help you. I don’t think Arkham is good for you, Ozzy, but maybe he can get you out of here. Maybe he can get you transferred to solitary or protective custody.”

His stomach twisted at the thought of being back in Arkham but he nodded against Jim, “I will ask the guards.”

Oswald was pushed to his feet suddenly, stumbling at the unexpected movement and Jim wouldn’t meet his eyes. He only got to his feet as well and pointed at a guard, “Not much time before dinner, after that it’s lock up. Better ask now.” They both knew that even if he could get ahold of Strange it wouldn’t move that fast, he wouldn’t get moved before that night, and resignation settled in Oswald’s stomach. 

He watched the guard and then moved back into Jim’s space, “It was a bad idea. I’d rather stay here with you until I can’t. Please.”

“Sure, Ozzy.” They sunk back on to the cot, and he curled back against the man. Jim shifted until he was comfortable, hand stroking down Oswald’s back. “What did Derek say? When you tried to talk to him?”

He curled in tighter, embarrassed, but a glance at Jim’s face and he didn’t think he was trying to rub in that it hadn’t worked. He tried to remember. “He said it wouldn’t bring back his brother. That he believed I was sorry but it was too late for apologies.”

Jim’s eyebrows went up and he shook his head, “More than I thought you would get from him Oswald.”

He shrugged and tilted his head so his face was pressed against Jim’s throat, and he wasn’t sure what he was doing as he pressed a kiss there, just one, holding still when he felt Jim tense.

“What are you doing?”  
“I don’t know.” And he really didn’t. His face was flushed but when Jim didn’t pull away he leaned, pressing another kiss against his neck, turning so he could get better leverage.

Jim did pull away at that, one hand coming to Oswald’s hair to tilt his face up, “I think you’re just scared, you don’t have to do anything like this just because we’re close.”

He responded by leaning into Jim again, tilting his head to press their lips together, pushing away all his thoughts and only focusing on the physical touch of the other man. He was pulled forward slightly, so he was half in Jim’s lap, and despite what the man had said he was kissing him back. 

Despite the building dread of what was going to happen he couldn’t help responding, nudging himself against Jim’s hip, whimpering into the kiss. As soon as the man touched him it was like all thought melted away.

At that Jim pulled back again, his own face flushed, as he glanced down between them and Oswald found a moment to be embarrassed that he was already hard. Jim’s fingers tightened in their hold for a moment before they relaxed and Oswald was eased backwards. “We can’t do this Oswald, not like this.”

“Why?”

Jim shook his head though and pushed to his feet. “I’m going to try to get a hold of Harvey, maybe there is something he can do. Stay here.”

The man was out of the cell before Oswald could protest and he shifted awkwardly, grabbing Jim’s blanket to pull over himself. Not sure what he had done wrong, he thought after what they had done earlier it wasn’t just for show. It hadn’t felt like just for show and he had just wanted to touch him. To not think for a little while. 

He frowned at the bed and sighed and even though Jim had told him to stay put he moved to his feet once his  _ problem _ eased. He would try to contact Strange, if Jim was doing everything he could to help he should be doing something more than cowering on a cot and waiting for something horrible to happen. 

How to go about getting to talk to Strange was a problem he didn’t have a solution for. He approached the first guard he saw, watching them tense when he moved into their space, and relax when they saw who it was. It made his mouth twist unhappily, and he didn’t know why. He should be proud that the guard wasn’t afraid of him. 

“What do you want Cobblepot?”

“I…” He licked his lips, trying to suss out what would get him to be able to talk to Strange. Maybe a direct approach. “I need to talk to Professor Strange. From Arkham.”

The guard raised an eyebrow, “Oh, do you. Let me just scurry and take care of that for you.”

Oswald just stood there while the guard watched him and he tilted his head, “Please?”

The guard laughed and took a step forward, making Oswald stumble back. The guard pointed behind him, “Get out of my sight, Cobblepot.”

He forced his shoulders to straighten, to stand up to his full height as not intimidating as that may be and made sure his voice didn’t shake. “I demand to speak with Professor Strange.”

Wariness flickered on the man’s face as he assessed Oswald, and he forced himself to hold the eye contact. There was something satisfying about it, at the reminder that he used to be someone that people listened to. Unfortunately as he thought it, the conditioning, the guilt started to seep in and he caved first, eyes darting away from the guard’s.

The man made a disgruntled sound and got in Oswald’s face, any tension in him disappearing when Oswald flinched and brought his hands up protectively. The guard snarled out, “Get the fuck out of my sight Penguin, before I make you.”

He nodded quickly, backing up a few steps before heading back to Jim’s cell. That hadn’t gone as he wanted, he didn’t get to talk to Strange and he had folded, but for a moment he had felt something. Hadn’t been able to hold on to it, but it was closer than the last time he had tried. Like something was clawing its way up in his chest. 

Shaking his head he curled back up on Jim’s bunk to wait for the other man to come back, hopefully with better news. 

He didn’t see Jim until they were lining up to go to dinner and he couldn't stop himself from nervously grabbing at the man’s sleeve when he was near enough, trying to pull him closer. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Jim?”

“I talked to some people. They are going to try to get us moved into a double, easier than trying to keep you in a single.” It sounded like good news but Jim looked down at him, “It will take a few days.”

It took some nudging from Jim to get them moving and Oswald couldn’t seem to let go of his hold on the man’s sleeve. “I tried to talk to the guards, about Strange.”

“Any luck?”

Oswald shook his head, curling in closer to Jim until a guard pointed at them and he was forced to let go and get in line. Jim was talking, telling him that he would think of something, but he couldn’t focus. 

On autopilot he got a tray, thanking them as food was placed on it, used to them giving him funny looks. He pushed his tray at Jim as soon as they sat down, he had no appetite, sure if he ate anything he’d be sick. 

Jim frown at it before pushing it back towards Oswald. “Why don’t you try to eat something?”

“What’s the point.” He barely recongized his own voice, resigned to what ws going to happen. Some part of him sure that he deserved all of this. 

Jim watched him before he let out a long sigh and grabbed Oswald’s jaw to tilt his head up and meet his eyes. “I have one more idea, Oz. Keep your head up, pay attention to what is going on around you. Tell people that if they fuck with you they will have to deal with me. Got it?”

Oswald felt his eyebrows come together, “What?”

“Do you got it? I can’t have you be shy about this Oswald, make sure you tell them. Should only be a few days you’re alone. Say okay.”

“Okay.” 

Before he could ask any follow up questions, try to figure out what the man was talking about Jim was on his feet. 

He was frozen to the spot as Jim dumped his food, holding the metal tray in his hands as he stalked across the cafeteria. The guards caught the movement too late and when Derek looked up Jim caught him across the face with the tray, spilling him out of his seat to the ground, his head hitting the floor with a solid thump.

Jim dropped the tray, straddling the man as his fist flew, and even across the cafeteria Oswald could hear the sick crack of a nose breaking. By the time the guards pulled Jim off Derek the man’s face was covered in blood and his limp body said he was unconscious. Blood seeped from his nose and from a gash in his head as well and Oswald swallowed hard as his eyes moved to Jim.

The man was glaring around the room as the guards dragged him out, and he snarled, “This is what happens if you touch what’s mine!”

Once Jim was out of the room, the guards trying to get a medic for Derek, eyes turned to Oswald. He ducked his head down, looking at his food, trying to wrap his head around what had happened.

No one talked to him as they headed back to their cells for the night and he found himself alone in the double, Derek probably at the infirmary. 

And the full weight of what Jim had done finally registered with him. He was probably in solitary, but for now Oswald was safe. The damage to Derek would mean he would be in the infirmary for at least a few days, and the parting threat should keep away anyone else. For a little while anyways. 

He sat on his cot, wiping at the tears on his face, overwhelmed by the lengths that Jim had gone to protect him. And even though he was in prison, even though he sat by himself in a cell, for once he didn’t feel so alone.


	11. Chapter 11

Oswald heard that Derek got out of the infirmary after 3 days. He arrived back in the cell block but was not brought to the cell shared with Oswald. He tried to keep to himself, keep his eyes down, but the few times he glanced at the man he didn’t look his way at all. He waited to see if he would come to his cell, start with him, but the man seemed like he was keeping his distance. 

The fourth day Jim was back.

Jim’s face was bruised like he had been beaten but he headed towards Oswald in his cell with a single mindedness that made him ignore everything else around him. Oswald scrambled to his feet to meet him at the gate, unprepared when Jim grabbed his shirt in both fists and shoved him backwards until his back hit the wall. 

Fear flashed across his face, but Jim’s grip eased. Hands sliding over Oswald, finally reaching up to cup his face. “Did anyone hurt you, Oswald?”

“No-”

“Did anyone touch you?”

“No, Jim.”

“You’re okay?” When he nodded Jim stepped back all at once and pointed at him, “Stay here.”

“But Jim-” The man didn’t listen to him, heading out of the cell and he followed him to the gate, though he stayed there like he had been told, watching Jim scan the room. As soon as the man started moving again it was obvious where he was going, and he was nearly to Derek when the man noticed him and stumbled to his feet, facing Jim with both hands up in the air.

Oswald desperately wished he knew what the man was saying, what was going on, but they were too far away. Derek looked frightened, and Jim glared down everyone else around them, before he turned and headed back to Oswald. 

Part of him wondered if he should be afraid as well. 

Jim only stopped long enough to collect a box from the guards and then he was back in the cell with Oswald, dropping the box on the empty bed. Oswald stayed out of the way, pressing against the far wall to see what the man would do, and watched Jim’s anger slowly calm. 

When he was sure the man wouldn’t lash out he took a hesitant step forward, his voice pitched low and whimpery, “James?”

“I didn’t hear a thing when I was in the hole, Oswald. They wouldn’t tell me if you were okay, if Derek was back, nothing.”

He couldn’t help but frown, not sure what he was supposed to say, but wanting to do something about how upset Jim was. “I’m sorry.”

Jim let out a harsh laugh, scrubbing his hand over his face, but finally the tension seemed to ease from his shoulders and he put a hand out in invitation, “Come here.”

He hesitated, he couldn’t help it, flinching back when it made Jim tense. He did move though, he wouldn’t ignore an order, and when he reached Jim the man pulled him close, wrapping arms around him. 

All of the fear and worry and anxiety for the last four days hit Oswald at once. He had been trying to hold it together, he knew that Jim had risked a lot to protect him and if all he had to do was keep it together then he should be able to do that. He tried to explain, knew that he should be asking Jim if he was alright, thanking him, but when he opened his mouth all that came out were sobs. 

“It’s okay Ozzy, I got you. It’s okay.” He was held tighter, one hand on the back of his head pressing his face against the man’s shoulder and he clung to him, wrapping his hands in the man’s shirt.

Jim made a soothing sound, rubbing his back, and by time Oswald really paid attention to what was going on around him he realized they were sitting on the cot and he didn’t even remember moving. He was curled up against the man. He leaned back, looking up at Jim, face flushing at showing so much weakness. He tried to move away, “I’m sorry Jim, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s fine, Oswald. I’m sure the last four days were hard on you.” A hand came up to rub against his cheek, “You must have been so scared.”

Oswald’s hand came up to touch Jim’s and he focused on his face, “You’re hurt.”

Jim chuckled as he dropped his hand. “It’s fine. The guards and I had some disagreements, nothing worth mentioning.”

He was still unsettled and he looked down at his hands, “What did you go say to Derek?”

Jim shrugged his shoulders, leaning away and then pushed to his feet. “Nothing, Ozzy.”

He hadn’t thought something suspicious was going on but he shifted, unsettled by that answer. “It didn’t look like nothing.” He tried to keep his voice soft, making sure it didn’t sound like he was challenging him, but he didn’t want to back down. 

“Oswald, I just…” Jim rolled his eyes, “I was asking him if he touched you, I was making sure that he knew to stay away.”

“I told you he didn’t.”

“You’d lie about it if you thought it would cause trouble.”

He was shaking his head, and he bit his lip. It felt like he had to apologize, “I know lying is bad Jim, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Jim just shrugged, which wasn’t really an answer. Oswald tilted his head, not sure how to convince him, and it had taken a long time but he realized, finally, what it meant that Jim was in the cell with him. He had hoped when Derek wasn’t assigned back to his cell, when no one had, but a thrill went through him. “You were moved to this cell?”

“I told you I would, Oswald. Should be easier to keep an eye on you, no reason for you to be separate from me at all now.”

Oswald opened his mouth, not sure how to respond to that, caught off guard when a blush moved up his face. There was nothing intimate about the words, but he couldn’t stop reacting like there had been. When he realized he would be sleeping only a few feet away from the other man. He touched the cot and kept his eyes down, “I like that.”

His own tone sounded seductive and he hadn’t meant to, and he was going to be embarrassed but before Jim could say anything there was a guard approaching their cell. Jim was grinning at Oswald but he let it slip off his face as he moved to the gate, like he was going to block the man. “What?”

The guard didn’t looked impressed by him, and settled one hand on his baton. “I’m here to get Cobblepot.”

“For what?”

“I’m not talking to you Gordon, get the fuck out of the way or you can have the fastest turn around time for the hole, ever.”

As the guard talked Oswald pushed to his feet, coming up around Jim’s side, pushing past him so he was in front of the guard. He couldn’t help his eyes darting away, “Did I do something?”

“You have a visit with a Hugo Strange.”

“What?” He knew he had tried to get ahold of him but he hadn’t been able to, though it was possible the message had eventually gotten back to him. “Why?”

The guard shrugged, “How the fuck should I know. Let’s go.”

“He’s not going to see him.” Jim grabbed his arm, pulling him closer, “He declines the visit.”

“Not really optional, so why don’t you fuck off Gordon.” Oswald swallowed hard and untangled himself from Jim.

“It’s okay Jim. I’m sure Hugo only wants to help.” Though he was anxious, aware that Jim wasn’t happy about it, part of him was… excited. Jim didn’t trust him but Strange had fixed him, made him a better person. He smiled at the guard who didn’t smile back, and followed him as he led them away. 

He hadn’t had any visitors so he wasn’t sure which way the had to go, but he had the feeling he wasn’t being taken to the normal rooms. Finally he was led into a small room and they had him sit at the table. There was a set of cuffs bolted into the table and he was instructed to put his hands up so they could be restrained. Which seemed silly, even to him. He’d offered no resistance, no fight, had done everything that was asked of him. 

Once he was restrained the guards left him alone and it was only a few moments later that the far door opened and Hugo Strange came into the room. He smiled at Oswald, openly friendly and Oswald couldn’t help smiling back at him. “Professor Strange.”

“Call me Hugo, Oswald.” He met his eyes and the smile tilted down, “I was so disappointed to hear that you were in here Oswald. I thought we had made such progress.”

“I didn’t do what they said. I promise. I’ve been doing everything you wanted me to do.” HIs voice had taken on a desperate lilt, cuffs rattling as he tried to raise his hand to swipe at his face but were held up short. 

Hugo watched him for a long time and finally nodded. “How are you holding up, Oswald? They said you were trying to contact me.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it, and he had no idea what to say. He had only thought of the Professor when he was panicked and he didn’t know what to do now. His voice lowered, barely able to mutter, “I don’t belong in here.”

“Why do you think that, Oswald?”

“I'm good now. I didn’t… The men that are here, I’m not like them.” He tugged at the cuffs again, wishing he could wrap his hands around himself. “There is a man here who I hurt badly before, that I killed his brother. He is angry and I don’t blame him. I can’t make it up to him.” The words spilled out without his consent, all at once, too fast and shaky as he tried not to cry but he was sure Strange understood. 

“You say he is angry Oswald, has he been violent?”

His eye darted down to the table, “Yes.”

There was a shift from Strange, “Tell me Oswald, what did he do to you?”

Oswald’s eyes came up at that, and the words stuck in his throat, because even though he knew that he deserved what happened to him, that Strange had the best of intentions something about his voice set off alarms. Strange was staring straight at him and Oswald was certain there was amusement in the man’s face, like he was entertained by it. 

And he didn’t want to tell him. He shrunk back into his chair, “He hit me. I apologized and he didn’t accept it but, but that was all.”

“Oh.” Strange sounded so disappointed that Oswald tried to curl in on himself. “That is all?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure, Oswald?”

“Yes.”

Strange nodded and moved to his feet, so clearly unhappy with the information. Like he was expecting more. “Well it sounds like you handled that well Oswald. You are clearly sane, and as such I have no reason to be here.” His voice had settled into something cold and detached. Bored. He hesitated for a moment, “Unless you think there is more Oswald, that maybe you need to come back to Arkham to serve out your time? Somewhere that it will be gentler? Maybe some more therapy?”

He looked up to meet Strange’s eyes and it felt like his insides turned to ice, “Therapy?”

“I can take you from here Oswald, and we can work on it.”

He leaned back, and found himself shaking his head. Strange shrugged, like it didn’t matter that much to him. “Then this is goodbye Oswald. I certainly hope that you are able to turn your life around from this point. I’ve done all I can do.”

Oswald didn’t say anything as the man left the room and he waited for the guards to collect him. It had been a short conversation, but it had been enough. As he had said, he wasn’t stupid. That wasn’t an eagerness to help him, to do good, the man had been intruiged by his suffering. Had tried to use it to get him to agree to more therapy, more torture. 

In that moment he knew that Professor Strange could not be trusted. 

And Oswald was left wondering what that meant for everything that he had been told by him. What else couldn’t be trusted?

The guard came in and uncuffed him, dragging him to his feet and shoving him forward even though he didn’t resist and with the revelation about Strange an odd feeling roiled in his stomach, and he didn’t know what to think. What to believe.

He needed to get back to Jim.


	12. Chapter 12

Jim was in his cell,  _ their _ cell, and he headed towards it with his head down. He was distracted, trying to think of what had happened, and realized he wasn’t worried about keeping an eye on who was around him. He trusted Jim to make sure he was safe. 

Jim was already watching him when he got there, and he was sure he had watched him all the way through the room. Jim’s face was blank, no emotion shown either way, like he didn’t want to influence what Oswald was going to say. “How did it go?”

And part of him didn’t want to say. Didn’t want to admit that he had been wrong, a twist of hurt pride through his chest, and that was new too. He chewed his lip as he looked at Jim, wishing the man would give something away so he could read his mood.

“Oswald?”

“He is not interested in helping me.” He didn’t give any more information, waiting to see what Jim would do. 

The man only shrugged, his mouth twisting into a regretful frown. “I’m sorry Oswald, I know you were hoping he could do something.”

He waited for more, for Jim to rub it in and his voice had a sharp bite to it when he spoke again, “That’s it? You’re not going to tell me that I was wrong? That you were right?”

Jim’s head tilted and if he was bothered by the tone it didn’t show. “What did he say to you?” Oswald shook his head and looked away, but still he saw Jim stand and move closer, lowering his voice, “You’re upset. What did he say to cause it?”

The stoicism that he had managed crumbled once Jim was nearly touching him and he ducked his head, “He wanted me to tell him what happened with Derek. He sounded like… he was enjoying hearing that I was hurt.”

“You told him everything?”

Oswald shook his head, “It felt wrong. I told him that he hit me, but that’s all. He said he could help, but…” He trailed off and realized it wasn’t the man enjoying his suffering that had shaken him so badly, it was the next part. “He said if I needed to go somewhere gentler he could bring me back to Arkham. For more therapy.”

He was in Jim’s arms before he even realized the man had moved, pulling him close, and he clung to him as he buried his face against Jim’s neck. Jim was talking and he missed the beginning of it as he tried to listen “-back there. It’s not going to happen.”

“I told him no.”

“He already broke you once. Who knows what he would do if he got his hands back on you.” Jim’s face flushed and he looked apologetic, “No offense, but you shouldn’t trust anyone right now Oswald.”

“Except you?”

Something crossed Jim’s face, made it close off, and he eased back from holding Oswald until they weren’t touching at all. Oswald felt alone immediately, not sure what he had said wrong. Jim rubbed a hand over his face and turned back to the bunks, leaning on one hand against it as he rolled his neck. His words were almost too quiet for Oswald to hear, “You probably shouldn’t trust me either, Oswald.”

“Of course I can trust you, Jim.”

Jim shook his head again. “I know you’re not yourself right now, that you’re… vulnerable. I never should have laid a hand on you, I should have figured out something else.”

“I didn’t say no to it, Jim.”

“I’m not sure you could have if you wanted to, not like this.”

Oswald’s face flushed. He knew that he was different now but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t mindless. He was capable of making his own choices, when he had been on his knees for Jim it hadn’t been the other man’s idea for him to use his mouth. He had decided that.  _ He _ had wanted that. “That’s not fair.”

In a flash Jim was off the bed and grabbed Oswald, shoving him against the bars, kissing him. Oswald moaned and opened his mouth, scrambling to grab onto Jim’s shirt and pull him closer. Jim pulled away and before he could complain Jim was talking. “Get on your knees, Oswald. Blow me right here, show them who you belong to.”

They were out in the open and he knew they had seen before, but his face flushed red as he looked out into the room, there would be nowhere to hide it away. Humiliation pooled in his stomach, making him feel sick, but he started to sink down to his knees. If that was what Jim wanted he would.

He never made it down as Jim grabbed his upper arm and kept him on his feet, pulling him away from the bars to bring him back in the cell, pushing him until the back of his knees hit his cot and he sat down on it. He expected Jim to approach, grateful that he was going to let him do this in the shadows of their cell instead of in full view, but Jim pulled away to lean against the other side of the cell. 

Confusion made him tilted his head, not sure what happened. Jim was watching him carefully, eyebrows raised as he waited for Oswald to understand. 

He glanced at the room again and back to Jim and it sunk in. He dropped his eyes, face burning even hotter as he crossed his arms over his stomach. He pressed his lips together, unhappy, as he nodded to himself, “You were making a point.”

“Yes.”

There was an unknown feeling in his stomach and with a start Oswald realized it wasn’t unknown. He was  _ angry. _ He didn’t get up, didn’t even meet Jim’s eyes, but responded. “I know what I want and what I don’t Jim. I’m not that broken.”

A snort from Jim and Oswald wanted to be offended but there was a strain under it, guilt and regret coloring Jim’s words. “You want to blow me in front of everyone then?”

“No.”

“Exactly.”

Oswald rolled his shoulders and forced himself to look up and meet his eyes, holding them before he spoke carefully so there would be no confusion. “I don’t particularly want to be put on display, Jim, but maybe what I  _ do _ want is to do what you tell me to. Maybe I’ve wanted to do that for  _ years _ .”

He could only hold Jim’s eyes long enough to see them widen before with not a little bit of horror he realized what he said looked down to the ground in mortification. He hadn’t really thought about what he would be saying, what he would be giving away with the words, and abruptly realized he had been assuming that Jim was interested in something more than the act they were putting on but that might not be true. He closed his eyes, wishing he could disappear.

There was no sound from the other side of the cell for a bit before Jim cleared his throat, “You know, I’ve always heard rumors.”

And Oswald really had thought this couldn’t get any worse. “Jim-”

“I take it you know what I’m talking about?”

Oswald shook his head but not in denial. His voice was small, hurt. “Why are you doing this?”

“I mean, you have always been so eager to help. To invite me to your events. To show up anytime I called.” Oswald felt like he was going to be sick, he didn’t need a reminder of how pathetic he had been, but he wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t catch Jim’s tone. And it wasn’t mocking. Hesitantly he glanced up, Jim watching him carefully. “And then the rumors, Oswald. It all fit so perfectly together.”

And he realized Jim wasn’t trying to rub anything in, he was trying to  _ explain _ something. He licked his lips, searching the man’s face, before he answered. “You thought it was a set up?” Jim nodded and Oswald crossed his arms over his stomach, “It wasn’t.”

“I get that now.” Jim wasn’t looking at him, “If I had realized that before some things might have been different.”

Oswald felt shaky and out of his element. He tried to shrug it off, “Can we forget this conversation happened?”

Out of the corner of his eyes he watched Jim finally nod though he didn’t look happy about it and after some shifting the frown faded and Jim gave him a grin, “You were just angry Oswald. Actually angry, and you acted on it. Maybe something good did come out of talking to Strange.”

Jim had dropped it like he asked but part of him was disappointed, and he licked his lips. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Jim what he meant about things might have been different but instead his thoughts shifted to the angry part. He thought about the anger he had felt, and he waited for the guilt to come after it, and there was some but not enough to make him regret it. He felt justified in it, helped by Jim’s encouragement of it even when the anger was aimed at him. 

Jim dropped to the cot next to him, leaning against the wall. “So what did you do the last few days Ozzie?”

It was clearly an attempt to change the subject and Oswald looked down at his hands in his lip, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. “Stayed in the cell, where it was safe.” He could see the sad look on Jim’s face, the pity and sighed. He glanced over at Jim, and turned to face him, keeping his voice soft. “You are hurt. Let me… let me help?”

Jim nodded and Oswald turned towards him, hesitantly reaching up to his face to run fingers over the bruises, the cut above his cheek. He knew none of them were serious, that Jim was humoring him, but he was happy to have the chance to touch the man. To have something to do and feel useful.

He was so focused on it he startled when Jim reached up to lay a hand over his, stilling his movements. Oswald wanted to look away but they were so close he had no choice but to meet his eyes. He wasn’t sure of the look on Jim’s face and he licked his lips nervously and didn’t miss JIm’s eyes dart down to look at his mouth. He dropped his hands.

“Jim-”

It was all he got out before there were lips on his. Jim’s hands moved to cup either side of his face, holding him still even as he tilted his head for a better angle. Oswald opened his mouth, grabbing onto Jim’s shirt, trying to pull him closer, worried that it was another trick. Jim trying to make another point. He didn’t think he could stand it if he was.

It didn’t feel like a trick though. Jim’s fingers were digging in, holding him close, as his tongue curled over Oswald’s teeth, around his tongue, claiming every part of his mouth for his own and Oswald was happy to give it to him. 

He was just starting to feel light headed when Jim pulled back, though he didn’t go far, leaning his forehead against Oswald’s as he let out a long sigh. “Kissing you shouldn’t feel this good.” Jim kissed him again, just a soft touch before he pulled all the way back to look at him.

Oswald couldn’t help the flush up his face at the words, shly ducking his head, no experience to pull on to tell him how to respond to that. He was flustered and it didn’t help when Jim chuckled, but thankfully a buzzer sounded through the room and the man stood up, grabbing onto Oswald’s arm to pull him to his feet as well. “Dinnertime, Ozzy. Let’s get you some food. You look like you barely ate while I was gone.”

He let himself be pulled along, didn’t tell Jim he had been so scared alone in the cafeteria he had only managed to eat a tiny bit, he didn’t want him to feel bad. It was better now that Jim was back, and the hand that wrapped in the back of his uniform felt comforting, despite that usually it made him self conscious. Any touch was appreciated right now.

Oswald noticed several people watching them, looking at Jim, and he didn’t realize how distracted he was until Jim spoke up, “What did I say about attracting attention?”  
“Sorry.” His eyes darted down to his tray and stayed there but he whispered, “Why are so many people looking at us?”

Jim glanced up at him before he looked around, and there was a frown on his face, “Up until 4 days ago I didn’t do anything that interesting. Now they are trying to decide if I’m someone that needs to be, ya know, considered. Worried about.”

“Because of me.”

He rolled his shoulders, “It might have put a bit more of a target on you too, Ozzy. Couldn’t be avoided though.”

“That isn’t your fault Jim. Until I got here you didn’t have any problems.”

A chuckle came from Jim, soft and genuine and it made the tension ease from Oswald’s shoulders. “Oh, I had plenty of problems already Oswald, long before you got here. Trust me on that.” Oswald made a small sound, and Jim shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t really plan on us being here for long.”

His eyebrows came together and no matter what Strange had done, what he knew was right now, he knew better than to ask Jim to elaborate because there was really only one reason he would say something like that. And it wasn’t because they were going to be released. 

It surprised him when the thought of escape, of doing something bad like that, didn’t make him feel quite like he had before. He still wanted to be good, wanted to do good, but anything that Jim was planning on he could get behind completely. Especially since they were both in Blackgate for crimes they didn’t commit, that made it better.

Jim was tucked away into his food and Oswald couldn’t help it as he glanced around once more, trying to find where Derek was. Though Derek had an issue with him, originally, he was sure that some of that anger was directed solely at Jim now as well. Derek seemed afraid, had backed down when Jim challenged him, but something about him didn’t sit right with Oswald. It was a different life, but he knew he had pretended to give in and cower when it suited him as well, but he had rarely forgot when someone humiliated him. He didn’t want Jim to get caught off guard.

No sign of the other man and Oswald sighed as he turned back to his tray, forcing down the frankly atrocious food as he glanced again at Jim. Unbidden the thought that they would be sharing a cell, sleeping so close to each other, came to him and he shifted in his seat. He leaned a bit closer to Jim, the other man giving him a smile, and Oswald looked down to hide his blush. It didn't mean anything, Jim was only there to protect him, it wasn't like he was planning on _doing_ anything. Still, heat coiled in his stomach and the flush moved further up his face. Not sure what he wanted or what he thought might happen but he couldn't deny that he was excited. He shook his head hard, trying to clear his mind, but couldn't stop a thrill of hope. 


	13. Chapter 13

After dinner he couldn’t help being tense, nervous in that excited way, but Jim seemed calm. Seemed to barely be paying attention to him. They were already back to their cell when he finally ducked his head and muttered out, “Did I do something?”

Jim gave him a dubious look, though it was softened by a genuine smile. “Nothing wrong. But you gotta stop looking at me like that, Ozzy.”

Self consciously he tipped his eyes down to the floor, “Like what?”

Jim took a long slow deep breath and blew it out with more force than was probably necessary. It made Oswald’s shoulders hunch, he clearly had aggravated the other man. Jim moved closer to him, tilting his head down, and met his eyes. There was humor there, like an inside joke but finally Jim shook his head. “Nevermind.”

He couldn’t help the frown, blushing even though he wasn’t sure why. He tried to force an order into his words. “I want to know what.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“ _ Jim _ .” He stomped his foot, reminiscent of his past tantrums, and glared.

The tone, the response, it was like it triggered something in Jim seeing a glimpse of the old Oswald and he snapped out, “Like you want me to fuck you.”

The attitude he had, that he had shown, disappeared as his face flushed red and he looked away. A small embarrassed sound made it between his lips. Before he could think of what to say, of how to respond Jim was already talking again.

“Shit, I’m sorry Ozzy.” The man took several steps away from him, “Forget I said anything.”

Oswald stared hard at the ground and the words slipped out before he could stop them, “Do you want to?” 

The silence felt like a physical thing, pressing against Oswald’s skin, making it so he couldn’t breathe. He finally tried to stutter out something, “Jim-”

He was grabbed and pushed up against the bars before he could finish, Jim pressing into him, a mouth on his. He gasped but the sound was lost in the kiss, Jim’s tongue in his mouth, and all he could do was grab his shirt and hold on.

Jim’s thigh slid between his legs, and he moaned as he rubbed up against him. It was easy to lose himself in the kiss, to forget where he was when Jim was touching him, but he was abruptly brought back to the present when catcalls reached his ears.

It was Jim that pulled back, though only just enough that they weren’t touching, hand sliding down to cup the side of Oswald’s face. Not letting him look away. There was heat to Jim’s voice, and he could feel that the man was interested, but his voice was gentle. “You don’t want this Ozzy, not with everyone watching.”

Though he wanted to back down, all the conditioning he’d gotten in Arkham told him he should agree, that he should give in. He held his eyes though, “I do.”

Hands were back in his hair, tilting his head back so he could kiss him deeper. A moan slipped out of Oswald’s mouth around the kiss, unable to stop himself from rocking his hips forward to grind against Jim.

“Oh fuck Oz.” Jim pulled back, panting, before he used his hold to give him access to Oswald’s neck. He mouthed at the skin there, biting down before he sucked on it, and the man bruised so easy by time he was pulling away there was already a mark.

He dropped one hand to palm over Oswald, rubbing the hardness there, and a groan made it out at how responsive Oswald was. At how easy he was to rile up. He tilted Oswald’s chin down so he could kiss him again and muttered, “If anything, you deserve something better this time around than cumming from humping my leg.” It was true, though he said it a little just to watch him blush.

Jim glanced past him out the bars, eyeing those that were watching them before he turned his eyes back to Oswald. He didn’t want to agree that he wanted to touch him, it felt like he was taking advantage but he eventually he muttered, “Not going to do anything now before lights out anyways.”

Like he was just remembering where they were Oswald hunched his shoulders, face red, and made a point to keep his back to the bars so he didn’t have to see anyone. Jim had moved back into the cell and he kept his eyes on him, shifting slightly at the uncomfortable feeling of his erection pressing against his pants. He took a few deep breaths, finally closing his eyes and trying to will his body to calm down. It wasn’t working and he whined, unable to help the sound deep in his throat. 

It brought Jim’s attention to him immediately, eyes darting down and then up to Oswald’s face with a grin. “Sorry, Oz.”

He huffed and pushed off the bars, giving Jim a scowl as he crawled on to his cot and curled up in the corner, pulling the blanket over himself to hide his reaction. He kept his hands above the blanket, embarrassed that Jim might think he was touching himself.

The thought of what Jim implied, that once it was lights out they would do something, was overwhelming. But… in a good way. Even that it would be here, that Jim might bring it further and his first time would be in prison, couldn’t make him want it less. There was a low needy throb of his cock at the thought and he shook his head. He needed to distract himself. 

“I think Derek is still a threat.” It wasn’t what he meant to say, and at least it went a long way to calming his body down, bad memories, and Jim made a disgruntled sound.

“I took care of that.”

“I don’t think he will let it go.” He picked at the edge of the blanket, “I wouldn’t have.”

He expected to be dismissed but Jim moved to the bars to look out them again, and made a small sound of acknowledgement. “I’ll keep an eye on it.”

“You believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jim shrugged one shoulder, “No matter who you are now Ozzy, you have good instincts. You always have.” He grinned, “Since we first met and you knew that I wouldn’t kill you.”

It made Oswald smile. He had. That first time in the alley while Jim was giving him that stern cop face, threatening, he could already see it in his eyes. Jim Gordon was a good man and there was no hiding it. He was lost in the thought and was caught off guard when Jim was in his space, one knee down on the bed, one hand against the wall next to his head. “Jim.”

“God Oswald, the way you begged on that pier. I should have kept you right then.” His other hand tilted Oswald’s chin up so he could see his eyes, “It wasn’t real then, that softness, but it is now.” He made a small sound, “Or at least you didn’t show it then, too many defenses.”

This close he could see that Jim wanted him and it made him bolder, “You can keep me now.”

Jim huffed out a laugh, sounding a little breathless. “Oh? Mine then, are ya?”

He licked his lips and nodded, voice earnest and he could taste the truth in the words, “I always have been.”

Oswald found himself suddenly on his back on the cot, flailing for a moment at the suddenness of it. When he settled Jim was leaning over him from where he kneeled between his legs. He moaned, grabbing at Jim’s uniform when his lips landed on his, but they only had a moment before there was a loud crash.

Jim jerked back, head snapping to look out the cell, grunting and pulling back more when there was a guard standing there. 

“Break it up love birds.” 

The guard watched them until Jim put up both hands, giving him a grin. Once the guard had moved on Jim turned the smile to where Oswald was still sprawled across the bed, and it softened with affection. He looked him up and down, gaze lingering long enough that Oswald blushed. 

Oswald chewed on his lip and couldn’t stop the want in his voice, “After lights out?”

And what else could Jim do but nod.

Oswald buried his nose in a book from Jim’s things, mildly curious when Jim was at the edge of their cell talking in hushed tones with a guard. He supposed it might have been about what he was sure was going to be an escape at some point, and he knew he shouldn’t draw attention to it. The guard was grinning though and he caught Jim slip him something and the guard nodded. 

He didn’t ask, and when the guard returned in a little while and gave something to Jim, bodies blocking the action, he still didn’t ask. He did notice that there was a flush up Jim’s face and he eyed him over the top of the book. Jim glanced at him but didn’t linger and he dropped his eyes back to the book.

At lights out Oswald froze, fingers clenching around the book, the anticipation making him tremble. He was nervous and excited, and he didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it whoosed out. There was a chuckle from the bed above him and he licked his lips, setting the book down on the floor and looked at the underside of the bed above him. “Jim?”

“The guards are doing their rounds.”

“Oh.” He pushed backwards against the wall, looking out the bars, and reached down to palm over his pants where he was already hard, and it made him whine. He yanked his hand away, flushing.

“What are you doing down there?”

“Nothing.” It came out as a squeak and there was a rustling of blankets as Jim leaned over the side of the bunk to look at him.

He scanned over him, those cop eyes not missing anything and Oswald could only cross his arms over his chest and look away. Jim looked up out passed their cell and shoved off his bunk, landing smoothly on his feet. It made Oswald drop his arms, pushing to sit up, heart skipping a beat.

Jim leaned against the top bunk, looking down at him, blocking him from everyone else. “You okay?”

“Yes.” It was snapped out, unable to help his nerves and it made Jim ease his stance a little.

“We don’t have to do this Ozzy, I’m not going to lie. I want you, but doing this here… like this… we don’t have to.”

“I want to.” He lifted his chin and met Jim’s eyes. And part of him remembered. He didn’t cower, that wasn’t him, and he said it again with more force. “I want to, Jim.”

“There is my Oswald.” Jim’s voice was so pleased it made him shiver. He crawled forward on the bed until he was on the edge, and Jim took a step back so he could kneel up. Jim cupped his face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone before he leaned down to kiss him.

Oswald gasped into it, the waiting and anticipation making it feel like an electric jolt when their lips pressed together. He pushed upward, grabbing on to Jim’s shirt, frustrated that he wasn’t able to pull him closer.

Jim pulled back, his voice husky. “Easy, give it a little time until the guards settle.” His eyes didn’t leave Oswald though, groaning at the image the man made. Kneeling on the bed, flushed, panting. Clearly hard and straining against hte uniform. “Fuck.”

Despite what he had said about settling he trailed one hand down Oswald’s throat to his chest, and it had been awhile since he wanted someone so bad. Had to admit, even if just to himself, that he had wanted Oswald for a long time.

Though he knew the answer, he needed to say it. “You’ve never done this before?”

Oswald swallowed hard and shook his head. He thought maybe he should be embarrassed by that, but instead he was excited that it would be Jim. 

Jim didn’t waver, they had come too far to consider not going through with it. Impatient he glanced over his shoulder but could see the guards still moving around. Still he turned back to Oswald and tugged at his shirt. “Get this off.”

With a nod he reached up with clumsy fingers, trying to undo the buttons. Jim moved back into his original position, hiding Oswald from view. It would be impossible to have no audience, but he would limit it what he could. And well, a part of him wasn’t exactly unhappy about staking his claim, about showing all the scum in Blackgate who Oswald belonged to.

The heavy uniform top fell off Oswald’s shoulders, leaving him in a white under shirt. Jim sucked in air between his teeth, letting his hand settle back over his chest. He slid his fingers over the cloth, catching a nipple under his finger tips, grinning as it made his breath hitch. He worried it for a moment before doing the same to the other, enjoying how easy it was to have Oswald panting, hips rocking. 

“You’re already so close, aren’t you?” His voice was just a low rumble, and he reached up to brush Oswald’s cheek where he was blushing. He had expected that though, and he had a plan. It only took him yanking on the undershirt to get Oswald to pull it off, exposing his pale chest, that small lithe form.

“Jim…”

“Now the pants.”

He was slower to comply, eyes darting up to Jim, but whatever he found on his face had him nod and reach for the button on his pants. He unsnapped the buttons and shifted his hips so he could push them down. Jim didn’t take his eyes off him, taking in every inch of skin as it was revealed until Oswald sat on the bed in thin prison issued boxers. 

His cock was straining against them, a wet spot where the head pressed against them. His hands hovered over himself but he dropped them to his sides, legs spreading a bit more to let Jim stand in between them. 

“Lay back.”

“Aren’t you… aren’t you going to get undressed?”

“Eventually. Just trust me. Lay back.”

Shyness won out though, too much to handle when he felt so exposed and Jim was still fully dressed. He scooted back on the bed but made no move to lay down. “Is this a trick?” 

Jim hummed and he expected an angry sound but Jim just moved to kneel on the bed, forcing Oswald to move back further to make room for him. “It’s okay Ozzy. I just want to take care of you first, you’re so close.”

“Oh.” He wiggled so he was laying down as much as he could, startling when the naked skin on his thighs pressed against either side of JIm’s clothed ones. “I want to… when you and I are together.”

“Ah, you will then too.” There was a husky tease in the words as he kneed at Oswald’s thigh until he spread his legs more and laid all the way back. “You’ve been waiting so patiently, you’ve been so  _ good _ Oswald.” He snagged the edge of his boxers and tugged them down, an awkward moment when he had to move to pull them off, but then Oswald was naked below him.

His cock pressed against his stomach, dripping precum. Jim slid a hand up Oswald’s thigh, slowly so he wouldn’t startle him until he reached between his legs. He met his eyes as he wrapped a hand around him stroking up until he could swipe at the dark red head, smearing the precum there when he stroked back down. 

“Jim, please.”

His cock was already twitching, the flush moving down his chest and stomach. It was only going to take a couple strokes but he pulled his hand away. Oswald’s hips rocked up, whimpering, but Jim wrapped one hand around his hip and held him down. 

He turned what he could, glancing out of the bars, and satisfied that they were hidden in relative darkness he turned back to Oswald. He leaned down, keeping eye contact, as he licked across the head of his cock in one long broad stroke.

Oswald squealed, shoving his own hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Jim wrapped his lips around him and sucked and that was all it took. He pulled back when he felt his cock twitching, stroking Oswald through the orgasm as he came over his stomach and chest. Oswald’s head was thrown back, hips rocking up and Jim pulled his hand away once he stopped moving.

He rested his hands on Oswald’s thighs, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin there, as he waited for his boy to come back to him. 

Oswald could feel Jim’s reassuring presence but couldn’t quite manage to open his eyes, or even move for a moment. The feel of his tongue, of his mouth, it had been overwhelming. He had hoped that maybe Jim would touch him, stroke him but he hadn’t expected  _ that _ . Even when he felt Jim swipe at his stomach with something, cleaning him off, he didn’t open his eyes. 

It was finally a mouth at his neck, worrying the skin there and sucking on it until it was tender that finally had him come back. He lifted his hands to grab on to Jim, pulling him down flush against him, and it was a little uncomfortable with Jim dressed and him naked but he didn’t care. He tilted his mouth up blindly, begging without words, and Jim pressed their mouths together. 

Tentatively he kissed back, licking at Jim’s lips, and was rewarded with Jim moaning and thrusting his hips down to grind against him. 

He couldn’t help an uncomfortable sound, the feeling of rough pants digging into his over sensitive parts, and Jim pulled back. He didn’t have to explain, Jim just glanced down and pulled back. “Sorry about that.”

Before Oswald could come up with a response Jim was pulling off his own button up and then shucking his pants, completely comfortable with his own nudity. He wasted no time climbing back between Oswald’s legs, aware that the guards wouldn’t look the other way forever.

He shifted them so they were laying fully on the bed. It made them more visible and there were suddenly a handful of cat calls, of shouts, and Jim stroked Oswald’s sides to soothe him when his head snapped to look in the direction of the voices. “Jim, they can see.” His voice was embarrassed, but Jim just shook his head, slipping a hand under Oswald’s knee to lift it up, to get him to bend it and open himself. 

“I told you they would be, it’s okay. They can’t really see much.”

Jim sat up and reached to the top bunk for a moment before he came back with something in his hand and dropped it on the cot. Oswald’s eyes darted to it and he frown for a moment before he realized what it was and when he had gotten it. He licked his lips and looked up at Jim, “Did you get lube from a guard?”

His answer was a shrug, but then Jim had it open and covered his fingers, sliding them along Oswald’s ass. He tensed up, nervous, but Jim only rubbed his fingers over his entrance slowly, circling it until Oswald started to relax. 

To distract him his other hand slid up to wrap around Oswald’s cock, not at all surprised when he was already half hard again. With how easy it was to rile him he was sure he’d be hard and ready again in no time, and with the first time out of the way, the edge taken off, he could let Oswald enjoy it a little more. 

“Have… have you done this before?”

Jim looked up to meet his eyes, and he wanted to lie, whether to put Oswald at ease or because he didn’t want to seem inexperienced he wasn’t sure. “Had sex? Yea, Ozzy, of course I have.” As soon as the words were out he wished he could take them back, impossible to miss Oswald’s flinch at the tone.

“Sorry.”

He huffed out a breath, bracing one hand on Oswald’s thigh. “Not like this, no. I’ve never been with a man before.” He had thought it might make Oswald more nervous and he was ready to explain that he did know what he was doing, but instead could f eel Oswald relax under him, hopeful eyes on him. 

“Then I’m your first for this.”

He forced air out of his nose, but gave in, “Yes.”

Jim couldn’t handle the soft look on Oswald’s face, the look in his eyes, so he leaned over him to bite at his neck again. Making certain he would be covered by marks, obvious to anyone that saw him that he was owned, as he pressed one finger inside. Oswald had covered his mouth again and the smothered sound Oswald made went straight to his cock and he wished he could pull his hand away, encourage all those small sounds, but he knew they had to be quiet. 

He moved so his mouth was pressed just below his ear, “I’m gonna have to move things a little fast here Ozzy, let me know if I’m hurting you.”

As he spoke he slid in a second finger, scissoring them, stretching him out. He knew Ozzy would probably allow anything he did and he would do his best to not hurt him. The only sounds Oswald made were mewling sounds behind his hand, and nothing that sounded like it hurt or like he wanted him to stop. “That’s my good boy, Ozzy.”

A noise outside their cell had him freeze with two fingers knuckle deep in Oswald, turning his head to look as he waited to make sure they hadn’t been caught, unable to bring himself to scold Oswald for the continued whimpers. 

He took a moment to consider that he was really going to do this, was going to have sex in prison, was going to has sex with  _ the penguin _ , but any reservations were lost as he watched the flush body beneathe him. Rocking, and whining, big eyes staring up at him. He nuzzled against him, “I got you Ozzy.”

Once he was sure there was no guard he pulled his fingers out, pouring more lube on his fingers and slicking up his cock. He settled on his knees between Oswald’s legs, “Do you want to do it like this? It might be easier on your stomach.”

“I want to see you.”

“Okay.” He slipped his hands under Oswald’s knees and bent them both up, keeping his eyes. “Ready?” Oswald looked unsure but nodded. 

He let go of one knee to grab himself and line up, breaking eye contact to tuck his head against his shoulder to smother his moan at the first contact. He pressed against him slowly, resisting the urge to thrust forward at the small mewls that made it around Oswald’s hand. He grit his teeth as he moved, rocking his hips slowly, pressing in a little at a time. He forced himself to open his eyes, not sure when he had closed them, wanting to make sure Oswald was okay, that he wasn’t hurting him. 

Oswald’s eyes were huge, mouth hanging open, face red and Jim focused on him. “Fuck Ozzy, you okay?” There was a small nod, Oswald pulling his lip between his teeth and worrying it. “Hurt?”

“A little.” His voice was soft, almost too quiet to hear and Jim leaned forward so he coudl see him better, shifting his hips, and reached up to touch his cheek. 

“Just relax, Ozzy. I’ll go slow.” He was so tight around him, so hot, and he reached down to stroke Oswald. He was still hard, and that was a good sign. He gripped him tightly, the lube making him slide easy, and was rewarded with a stuttered gasp. 

It made him relax more and Jim thrust in the last bit, dropping his head to kiss Oswald, driving his tongue into his mouth, moaning at the thought of filling every part of the man. He pulled back when he had to breathe, and growled against his throat, “ _ Mine _ .”

The cock in his hand twitched hard, and he nuzzled against his throat. They fit together so perfectly, and maybe he had always known they would.

Oswald had thought about this moment, what it would feel like, but nothing could have prepared him. He felt like he was being split in two and it hurt, but at the same time it felt so good. Overwhelming to be so physically close to someone when most of his life people only touched him to hurt. 

“James.” He shifted his weight, body clenching around the intrusion, though the gasp he made was smothered by Jim’s mouth on his again and he grabbed on to him, knees pulling up, digging his nails into Jim’s shoulder when he pulled back just a little and pushed back in. It was surprisingly gentle, he was sure they had limited time but Jim was being careful not to hurt him. 

Other sounds made it through to him, shouts from the other inmates, but Jim’s hold forced him to focus back on him. “Ignore them.”

He moved so there was weight off his bad leg and twisted slightly and was caught off guard when the next thrust hit something inside him, a bright shock of pleasure, pushing him over from pain to pleasure and he keened, pressing back against Jim to try to get that feeling again. It made a happy sound come from Jim, “Atta boy, right there?”

“Yes, yes.” He couldn’t help it as he squealed out the word before he remembered that he had to be quiet. Jim’s hand slid from his jaw to his mouth, tracing his thumb over his lip before he covered it.

The only sounds in the cell were quiet grunts, the slap of skin on skin, Oswald’s whimpers behind Jim’s hand.

Even though he had just cum Oswald was already on the edge again, humping up into Jim’s hand then pressing back against him, the constant feedback of sensation enough to make him feel hazy. 

He tried to tell him he was going to cum, and even muffled he was sure Jim understood him as he stroked him faster, twisting his wrist, thumb swiping over the head before focusing there with an intensity that was too much. He tried to pull away but there was no where to go and Oswald tipped over the edge, biting down on the hand covering his mouth in an attempt to do something with the tremors shaking his body at the force of his orgasm. 

Jim cursed and yanked his hand away, grabbing on to Oswald’s hips as the sharp jolt of pain pushed him over the edge, grinding as deep as he could, spurt after spurt of cum deep inside of the man. Claming him, marking him. 

He dropped over him, hips rocking a few times through the aftermath, sucking another bruise into Oswald’s throat as he listened to him pant. He wished he could stay there all night, curl around the smaller body and hold him close, but he knew it wasn’t possible. They were already pushing it. 

With an open mouth kiss to his jaw Jim pushed himself up, sliding out with a wet sound that made his spent cock twitch, and a soft groan. He put out a hand to keep Oswald where he was, pressing him gently down onto the cot when he tried to follow. He cleaned up himself, pulling on his pants, before he moved to clean up Oswald. 

He had the feeling the other man would be shy about moving around naked so he blocked him as much as he could, helping him to pull on his clothes until he sat in the middle fo the bed, face still flushed red, fingers tangled together with nerves. Not sure what he was supposed to do now, what he was supposed to say.

“You okay, Ozzy?” Jim sat near him on the bed, reaching out to stroke a hand down his side, settling it on his thigh. 

He was embarrassed and nodded, now that he wasn’t in the moment he felt exposed. He wanted more touch, wanted the reassurance, and Jim keeping his distance made him feel like unsure. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t good.”

Jim chuckled, deep and affectionate, and leaned in close to press a chaste kiss to Oswald’s lips. “Christ Ozzy, that was beyond good.” He nipped at his lip and his voice dropped to a husky rumble, “That’s why you’re probably still dripping my cum.” The words made Oswald’s flush deepen and moan, startling when Jim’s hand dropped to palm him over his pants, giving his soft cock a squeeze. “I know you enjoyed it.”

He had. “I liked it.” He met Jim’s eyes, “A lot, I think that…” He trailed off, he knew what he wanted to say, couldn’t help his feelings when he’d had them for Jim for so long, but he stumbled over them. Was sure they must show on his face.

Jim abruptly pulled away, a look on his face that Oswald didn’t understand, and mumbled. “Get some sleep Ozzy, it’s going to be a long day tomorrow. Just remember we will be out of here soon and don’t let what anyone says get to you.”

He opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say but Jim gave a sharp look out of the cell and then was up on his own bunk and he felt suddenly alone. It only took a moment for him to understand as a guard came into view, flashing a light into the cells, and when it fell on his face he was sure he had a stupid look on his face, but he tried to give the guard a smile. 

And then they were alone again. He expected Jim to come back down, and waited, but realized he wasn’t going to. “Jim?”

“We’ll talk tomorrow, don’t want the guards to start anything.”

Oswald was having trouble following the sudden change in attitude, at the cold tone from Jim. “Right. Sure.” He almost said more, asked what happened, but lost his nerve. “Goodnight Jim.”

“Goodnight.”

He watched the bottom of the bunk above him for a few more moments before he shifted so he could crawl under the blanket, and curled up facing the wall. What had he done wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive mentioned on some of my other stories - i'm sorry about such long delays. been dealing with some injuries, most recently a dislocated shoulder, and honestly - a whole bunch of depression that has been making writing hard.
> 
> my stories aren't abandoned, and im gonna try to update as best as i can


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